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FR E E S P MKCH 






How can \vc ask freedom lor the plantation 
. if the abolitionist bimself may not be trust- 
ed with liberty of Bpeech! If the advocates of 
humanity are not competent to meet together, and 
talk about freedom, without first being fettered, 
how can wild-passioned men hope to live free amid 
t< in excitements of conflicting life! 

It .-<:< in- to in' 1 , abolitionists had better first 
certain, whether any degree of freedom is possi- 
ble to thr;ii-> 1\< -. Whether any liberty — the lib- 
erty of thought — is practicable to any of the race. 
Whether unfortunate humanity be not, in fact, here 
on the earth, incapable of self-regulation, and only 
to be kept in a state of endurable servitude, by 
tear of tin aggregated brute force of Community 

ODD J 

We have gone manacled from our birth, and have 
trot to thinking chains are natural, to us — and that 



14 LIBERTY CHIIMES. 

they were born with us. — They were born with 
its, — or we with them — but we better not have any 
more born so. — We inherited fetters from our 
" fathers," — but we better not transmit them. 

The right of speech — it is the right of rights 
- — the paramount and paragon attribute of our kind. 
It is glorious among the brutes, when it is free. 
The roar of the lion — it is majestic and sublime 
in his native desert. — Not so, when he grunts un- 
der the stir of the poker, in the menagerie. The 
scream of the eagle, in the sky — or on the crag, 
where he lives and has his home — how unlike his 
most base croak, when they withhold his allowance 
in the cage that you may hear him make a noise. 
The one is free speech, in " free meeting." The 
other, speech-making, under chairs, boards and 
business committees. — How different the wild note 
of the life-bird, in the top of the high pine, 
when the setting sun awakens her throat after the 
shower, — how different, from the clutter of the 
poor caged canary, in the pent up street of the 
city. But illustration fails. — The glory and beau- 
ty of freedom cannot be illustrated. It must be 
witnessed — experienced, and felt. 



BE STEECII. \'j 

Speech is the on! of tyrants. It is the 

thing they control or encounter — Brute 

force ha y to mate!) it. " Four hos- 

tile pi — the most formida- 

ble brute the modem world has seen — "are 
than a lit!!..'., . d thous 
he might ha. 
— if it is tree. And if if , it will ho 

hostile lo tyranny. It i 

i ■ • the king 
of t< i to both. '! »ard has nothing to 

oppose to it, but th< >net. The bayonet is 

the ! argument, — and only argument. A 

board without a b is a hornet without a 

:■ b toothli . i. i nt it u ill try to 

•a orry ami I -w u fi i i spe< ch if it ci 

Ami as the bayonet is the board's only 
argument, bo only boards ever wield that ugly and 
hateful implement. Individuality never can hold 
or maintain it. — The individual can resort only to 
the truth. 

kC Stop his m >u;h '" cries alarmed and exasper- 
ated tyranny. Stifle his outcry! mankind will hear 



16 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

him! Shut him up, where he cannot be heard! 
Let his dungeon be deep and his walls thick, — 
not so much to keep him, as to keep him from be- 
ing heard! I must not hear him myself. "It dis- 
turbs my tranquility." Keep him alone ! 

It is the uttered word, that awakens the tread 
and that moves mankind. Words arc the storm 
that "awakens its deep." Words revolutionize 
society and nations, and change human condition. 
They bring those " changes," the " fear "of which 
" perplexes monarchs." Monarchy builds its bas- 
tiles to imprison them. It erects them amid the 
silence of the people, and it is only speech that 
can throw them down. The bastile of France, 
that fell at the outbreak of her dread revolution, — 
it was not artillery that prostrated its walls, but 
they were shaken down by the thunder and earth- 
quake of the voice of the people, and had France 
known the power of that voice, she would have 
shaken down with it 6 very throne in Europe. But 
she took the bayonet and it failed. It failed even 
in the hand of Bonaparte, the strongest hand that 
ever grasped it to conquer the world. It failed. 



FREE SPEECH. 11 

and France is again in chains. Kings build their 
bastiles again in her borders, for the imprisonment 
of the people, but they have to build them in a 
later style of architecture than the old Gothic. :' i 
it of ' ■ ".Id awaken again the 

people's voice. 

\ id B maparte hi ns ! . with a wall around him 
of half a million of b ibled at the 

slightest breath of fi Thecreatui 

i sh C o - \i a t im 
was at war with her — when the proud island stood 
tajed at his t!: 1 ent upon her, — 

i he li"\< ■[•< 1 v, iiii his dreadful marshals on 

nnel, the English ( 
mon Ph rounding with the call of the 

• come into Court and 
er i" the complain! of Napoleon Bonap 
or his default would be recorded." — The Emper- 
or had no confidence at all in his terrible Mar- 
shals, — or the armies of Italy and of Egypt, so 
long as free speech could libel him with impunity 
in the codec houses of London. And did it strike 

iny body as ludicrous, that Bonaparte should be 

b2 



18 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

scared at a libel? not at all. His folly was, that 
he sought to defeat it by a law-suit. Had he been 
a man, he would have sent an article against the 
libelcr, to the British press. He did not dare to. 
He was a tyrant — the truth was against him, — free 
speech was uttering it. — It scared him, and he stu- 
pidly went to law. I forget whether he got the 
case ! 

To come nearer home, and to the fields of moral 
strife. Corporation is the same coward and tyrant- 
foe of free speech, in the chair — the board — the 
business committee, as in the camps and courts 
of kings : and free speech, the bane and terror 
of corporation in all its forms. Its motto and banner 
words, — No Committees — nor commitment. No 
Boards, on which to lay humanity out, for a 
living burial. — Association — but of associate indi- 
viduab — whole individuals — unabated and undi- 
luted. Concert of action — but of individual, 
personal action — where no combination can bring 
upon individual freedom, the wizard spell of the 
majority — where that monstrosity is not known — 
where unfelt and unacknowledged, is the influence 



REFORM. 19 

of numbers and the authority of names— where 
are no great men — no leaders ; — that sends out its 
(Treat truths, backed up by no external or extrinsic 
force, to make their own way to the free and un- 
awed heart of the people. — This is the " anti- 
slavery society. " — The New Hampshire Anti- 

ivery Society is Buch. The humblest and 
poorest of anti-slavery bodies. — Poor in every 
thing but its principles, its love of liberty, and its 
fidelity to the cause of I [umanity. Inthese it isrich. 
— It proffers its hard righl hand of working fellow- 
ship to the anti-slavery of the land, and especially 
to the field-tried and Bervice-worn handful in little 
Rhode Island. — It is " auxiliary " to all anti- 
s | a , iciety, — subsidiary to none, as indeed no 

il anti-slavery body would claim of i1 subordina- 
tion or homage. 

I 1RD, N II. 



20 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



REFORM. 



i;Y WENDELL PHILLIPS. 



Let no one who looks for fame join us. Let 
him wait rather, and he one of that crowd w 
will flock like doves to our windows, the moment 
the first gleam of success shall gild them. Our 
work is only to throw up, ourselves unseen, the 
pathway over which, unheeding, the triumphant 
majority are to pass, shouting the names of later 
and gaudier leaders as their watch-words. 

How few have ever heard of Zachary Macauley, 
— the counsellor to whom Wilberforce looked up, 
— one who rose before the sun to give every hour 
to the slave, and died at last that glorious poor 
man, which the creditor of humanity always is. 
But thousands echo the easier earned fame of his 
son ! 

How few know any thing of that little committee 



REFORM. 

,i '■ ( labored unseen, in Lombard- 

thai Wilberforce ami Clarkson might be 
in the - people, — 

.1 with • ish heart, 

■ 1 it finally in I A i ; bu1 

them, to 1 _ - for- 
tcn, while the gallant ship which they had 
inched bo painfully,— baptized with a q< 
nan w ith a nev« Sag, anchored in 

• •v. | irg Review, 

that th ' 1,r allowed to 

:i ia the ordinary of events. 

. ... . it, b) imposing 

t of n labor, and 

i m- 
:.i- to t< II ua that higher motives than 
any man i nt to actuate tho 

• . >v< rmnent." 
In the place of ' Government,' put u Reform," 
and the sentim l cause 

like "in b. 

\ :.• -.,; - old Fuller, M that God 



LIBERTY CHIMES. 

honors thee not to build his temple in thy \ 
yet thou mayest, with David, provide metal and 
materials for Solomon, thy successor, to build it 
with." 

Some reluct at the long time requisite to change 
the institutions of a nation, or regenerate its public 
sentiment. But here too, a moment's thought 
shows us, how wise in this respect is t lie order of 
Providence. The progress of a great reform is a 
nation's school. It creates as it advances, the 
moral principle, the individual independence, the 
habit of private judgment, the enlightened public 
opinion, which are necessary for its own success ; 
and thus, by new moulding the national character 
and elevating its tone of morals, it confers far 
other and greater benefits than its originators at 
first proposed. And further, it naturally opens 
the eye to kindred abuses, or growing itself out of 
a wrong principle, which has other results beside 
this immediate one, it insensibly prepares the way 
for wider and more radical reform. Having once 
gathered under its banner an army of disinterested 
and enthusiastic hearts, its slow advance keeps 



REFORM. 23 

thorn in the field 1 I them veteran 

and . Foi ty 

make 
the Egypti Joshua to ad, 

and a fil id and 

i M. 
An 
f ■ .1. nt for a 

• ni lav. 
<• 'I long, that 

w\, | .c people W ill ha-, i 1" i D in- 

struct.!] in tip for something more than 

a in, i, | of an a<t of Parliim< nt, important 

thai i ■ eal unqui j is. They will sec 

, —that the 

• , . i h gislation, ami that 

i-ii by one 

ill class "t" the legislative power; ami thus 

< .:• , . : , the name of Complete Suffrage, 

trill I" • lopted measure of the middle 

clai 

Welcome then the thought that careless I Intory, 
will probably drop from her tablets the names of 



LIBERTY CHIN. 

ihose, who were first to stein the current o 
popular opinion. It tends to keep our ranks 
pure. 

Welcome the lonu years of struggle which show 
us thru we are enlisted not for a single campaign 
but for life. — The discipline will make us wisei 
and imprint deeper in our hearts the conviction 
that it is from us the rank-- of future \> forms ar< 
to be recruited ; and that to shut eyes to the 

light of other reformations is t< be ti ■ the 

past. 

BOS! W 



2 , 



rH I IERICAN UNIO N 



1 w 

iin- 

i\ exul- 
and 

rtfa 

I 

ch 






2R LIBERTY CHIMES. 

threaten to turn thy beauty into ugliness ? Dost 
thou feel thine infirmities, and seek the strength 
of righteousness ? Wouldst thou be great in 
goodness as in numbers, wealth and power ? 
Wouldst thou be indeed " the home of the brave, 
and the land of the free ?" Wouldst thou lead of! 
the nations of the earth in the grand march of 
reform, to welcome the dawn of that long pre- 
dicted era when universal Love and Peace shall 
reign ? Does this sublime ambition throb in thy 
mighty heart ? Does it pulsate through all thy 
vast system of political and religious organiza- 
tion ? Does it rule thy counsels, direct thy 
policy, and breathe through thy powerful influ- 
ences ? Does it animate thy statesmen, thy legis- 
lators, thy philosophers, thy literati, thy scribes, 
thy religious and moral teachers ? Are all thy ef- 
forts, energies and interests unitedly directed to 
the attainment of such a destiny ? 

Alas ! my country, I blush, I tremble for thee. 
Thou art indeed capable of all that constitutes 
true greatness. Heaven and earth have lavished 
their gifts upon thee in boundless profusion. 



THE AMERICAN' UNION. 21 

Nothing is wanting in thee but a right spirit — a 
pure heart. These thou lackest. Thou hast 
made fair professions. Thou hast solemnly ac- 
knowledged the noblest principles of action. Thy 
career opened with promises of unparalleled use- 
fulness to the human race. Liberty, equalii 
justice, mercy, progress, happiness, were thy 
watchwords. Bui where now isii6«rtyf Where 
is equality ; Where is justice ? Where is mer- 
Where arc the pillars of thy greatness ? 
Where is thy moral excellency ? Where is that 
true majesty which exalts a nation — the majc 
of righteousness : Nearly three millions of hu- 
man beings, whose birth-right was freedom, clank 
the chains of slavery, and send up to heaveo una- 
vailing sioans f'-r liberty, for justice, for mercy. 
Thy vast cotton harvest is annually moistei 
with their sweat and tears. Thy sugar cane and 
rice fields flourish by their unrequited toil. Thy 
alt h . rolling m golden streams across the land 
ia tainted with their lash-extorted blood. They 
iuld fly from thy tyranny, but thou pursm 
tern with blood-hounds. All thy citizens are in 



28 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

league to keep them in bondage. They would rise 
up and fight for liberty, after the example of thy 
revolutionary worthies, but thou terrifiest them with 
thine armies — with threats of swift and terrible de- 
struction. They would kneel in humble petition 
before thy Congress, and sue for the crumbs of 
liberty which fall from their masters' tables : but 
glaves are not permitted even to petition. They 
would learn letters and acquire knowledge ; but 
it is made a high misdemeanor to teach them. 
They would enjoy their wives, their husbands, 
their children, the endearments of family and 
borne, to solace themselves amid the sadness and 
dreariness of their servitude ; but these are all 
rudely trampled under foot by their oppressors. 
Every ligament of tender affection is torn asun- 
der. Degradation, ignorance, toil, and unnum- 
bered miseries — immeasurable wrongs crush them 
as between the upper and nether millstone. Who 
is horror-struck at all this oppression ? Who 
burns with shame ? Who weeps bitter tears 
of repentance ? Who rises up to put away these 
abominations ? Who are they that propose to 



THE AMERICAN UNION'. 29 

break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free r 
Are t _ - . ates .'.en, legislat rs, 

rs. politicians, divines and ; 3, 

forth all their influence to ace indis- 

Lble refi rm f Al - ' see tie 
mark their pi ' They g] 

ma ; th< aten to extend the area of 

o?er all M< and yet they call it the 

area "f IV 1 I no sha me, they 

ce no compunctioo ; they dash forward 

war-hoi igh-shod over their fallen 

victims : proclaiming to the world with mate] 

<• the rightfulness of all their robberi - 
the mercy of all their cruelty; and the increo 
f their down-trodden fellow n 

d •• amt n " <<;' a de- 

They Bhout to the onward 

i m »st intolerable wrong and outrage. And 

the highest places ol religion, a spurious and adul- 

gion, blasphemously pronounce bene- 

■ i"!!- on heaven-daring iniquity - 

■ though hand join in hand, wickedness like 
shall . • _ r o unpunished. Hear, O people 
2 



SO LIBEItTY CHIMES. 

the word of Jehovah : !cp> " This is a rebellious 
people, lying children, children that will not hear 
the law of the Lord : which say to the Seers, See 
not, and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us 
right things, speak unto us smooth things, pro- 
phesy deceits. Wherefore thus saith the Holy 
One of Israel, Because ye despise this word, and 
trust in oppression and perverseness, and stay 
thereon : Therefore this iniquity shall be to you 
as a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high 
wall, whose breaking cometh suddenly at an in- 
stant." Isa. 30 : 9—13. "He that heareth let 
him hear, and he that forbcareth, let him forbear." 
Ezek. 3 : 27. 

Hopedale, Mass, 



TUL NATION 5 DESTINY 31 



r ii E NATION - i :: - r i n \ 



. 



! I 

1 

I 

And < I.i r " • : ,,•!,,.. 

I ung ' 

' ^ r V* fame 

1 ' 

I - it the pri< e you'll pa) for 6 

i - j 

I J HOW IS II 

1 .all unpaid, 

V fill'd bj bail crumble to the ground 

■lit! . 



LIBERTY CHIMES. 

You sow'd the wind, the whirlwind you shall reap — 
The harvest-feast in sorrow you shall keep. 
Mourn for Columbia now ! The arm uf God 
For the crushed poor takes the avenging rod 
The nation trembles as it hears the word, 
While gathered vials of His wrath are pour'd— 
Mercy has moved her starry win<_ r a\\a\. 
And grieved — no longer seeks his wrath to si 
Mourn for Columbia now — restraining g 

Is all withheld — ami utter darkness si ids. 

While o'er the sky rise fast portentous i 
From east to west, from north in south, no ray 
To gild the darkness of that dreadful day. 
Dire scenes of old. when nations (hunk with ■ 
Crumbled to dust, at high Jehovah 9 
Shall now transpire in thee ; when thou -halt feel 
Worse tortures than thy despot's branding stei ! 
The heaven above be brass, and plag 
From thy soil, rife with human victims* cries, — 
And, left alone, thy Buicidal race 
Will slay each other in a fell embra 
***** 

Perchance, when ages more shall roll around. 
When the mock temple crumhles to the ground. 
A glorious dome shall rise — a home of love, 
That shall a refuge to the earth-worn pre 



an i v\ a wom ln do 

i 

I 



34 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO? 

BY RICHARD IIILDRETH. 

The female heart is soft ; the affections of 
woman are warm ; her sensibilities are easily ex- 
cited. Her first impulse is, to give her aid to 
every effort designed for the benefit of suffering 
humanity. Yet what can a woman do ? — This 
question presents itself at the outset, and smothers 
the desires of many a benevolent heart. What 
can a woman do ? 

There is inherent in each individual man and 
woman, a certain portion of moral power. It is 
this which makes them human ; for of mere physi- 
cal power, many animals possess more. It is this 
moral power, which has gradually softened and 
humanized the more favored portions of the race ; 
ii is by means of this moral power, that all revolu- 
tions and all advancements have been made. Wo- 



WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO ? 35 

men share it equally with men. In all changes of 
opinion, in all the great struggles attendant upon 
such changes, they have always borne a conspicu- 
ous part. The Grand Rebellion in Great Britain, 
which transferred the government of that country 
from the privy council of the king, into the hands 
of the property holders, and gave to England such 
freedom as Bhe has, owed much, at its starting 
point, to lho» d who overwhelmed the long 

Parliament with petitions, and who commenced 
the rebellion in Scotland, by an energetic and 
even tumultuous resistance to the introduction of 

the litu 

Xh 1» revolution, which in its results, has 

iuch changes throughout Europe and the 

prorld, was cradled and nursed in the saloons of 

Paris, where female influence had reached a 

higher point than any where else before. 

It is 1 1 ue, that taking the past history of the 

>rld together, the influence of woman appears, 

on the whole to have been small. This however 

i« more apparent than real. We have the history 

of battles, and Bieges, and political intrigues., and 



36 LIBERTY CHIMES 

revolutions of governments ; but the true history 
of the human race, the history of the progress of 
opinion, of the development of intellectual and 
moral power, remains to be written. Christendom 
for twelve centuries, had its opinions controlled by 
the Catholic church ; and the Catholic church 
knows well the power of female influence. The 
several orders of female devotees, were and are, a 
great pillar of its power ; and female saints 
abound in its calender. It has been the same 
with the Protestant churches. Is it not notorious, 
that at this moment, every Protestant sect in 
America, is mainly upheld, its churches built, its 
ministers paid, its associations and charities sus- 
tained, by the efforts and influence of the women ? 
In every church the female members far out-num- 
ber the men ; and the men who are there, seven 
times out often, are carried there and kept there, 
by the women. In all this, it is true, the women 
have played and play, but a secondary part ; they 
are led on, marshalled, ruled and used by male 
leaders. They are treated as the British treat 
the Hindoos who compose the bulk of their Indian 



WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO ? 37 

armies. They arc welcome to serve as common 
soldiers, but are not permitted to rise above the 
rank of corporal ; or sergeant at the best. And 
the reason is the same in both cases. The intel- 
lect of the men has been far more developed than 
that of the women. It has been held, and in 
most countries still is held, a sin and a crime for 
B woman to dare to think for herself. Even here 
in N«\\ England, a woman who adopts that course, 
us looked upon with suspicion and distrust, as an 
ambiguous character. Vet the tiling becomes 
more and marc common ; and is fast losing its 
strangeness. Having admitted women to equality 
in education ; having opened to thern the doors of 
the Bchool-roOBQ and the lecture-room ; having 
allowed them to read not sermons and books of de- 
rotion only, but novels, and histories, and news- 
papers, and every thing else, it is impossible to 
keep them from thinking ; and women who think, 
will presently feel and act, not as their mothers 
nnd grandmothers did, but in accordance with 
those new ideas to which they have attained. 
But how can they act ? They cannot vote ; 
c 



38 LIBERTY CBIMESV 

they cannot preach, — at least not many of them ; 
— they cannot legislate ; — what can they do ? 
more than voter, preacher or legislator. Each 
and all of those, is but the instrument to promulgate, 
or carry into effect, some pre-established opinion. 
No man can preach except as the expounder and 
defender of opinions already espoused by his 
hearers, or a part of them. If he preaches his 
own opinions in contradiction to theirs, he must be 
content to lack salary and a pulpit, and to seek 
audience as Paul did, in the market-place, or cor- 
ners of the streets, at the risk not only of brick- 
bats and rotten eggs, but of the police and the 
house of correction. How many men are equal 
to that ? No man can legislate except in confor- 
mity to the opinions of those who make him a leg- 
islator ; and the voter does only signify by his 
vote, his adherence to a certain principle or opin- 
ion which he thereby proclaims and vindicates. 
Behind all these is the opinion preached, voted 
for, made into law, — and whence comes that ? It 
is first conceived in the deptks of some few con- 
templative souls ; thence, as circumstances oppose 



WHAT CAN" A WOMAN DO ? 39 

y. favor, it is more or less gradually communicated 
to others ; and this little leaven, worked in and 
diffused imperceptibly almost, through the mass, 
presently leavens the whole lump. The mass 
ferments, rises, and becomes something which it 
was nut before. All the kneading, rolling, baking 
and fussing in the world, will not make bread, 
without the leaven to b-egin with. 

For instilling into the public mind, and diffusing 
through society those new opinions, in which all 
social changes must have their origin, women pos- 
sess peculiar advantages. They have an access 
to the hearts of men, which no man has. They 
have an access to the hearts of children, peculiai 
to thei. those childi-en who are soon to be- 

come men and women, aud to influence, for good 
or evil, the destinies of the race. 

There is no woman whose soul is possessed by 
anv "reat idea, and who longs for its diffusion, 
who may not Income, if she has patience and 
perseverence, a very apostle among the children 
of some little village school which she teaches, or 
who may be otherwise within the circle of her in- 



40 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

fluence, may perhaps be, sporting and prattling, 
the political and social leaders of the next genera- 
tion. Who knows ? Let her scatter the seed then 
hopefully. Some no doubt, will fall upon « stony 
places, and some among thorns,' and much, the 
fowls of the air will devour. But some too, will 
fall upon good ground, and will produce fruit 
twenty, and fifty, and an hundred fold. 
Boston, Mass. 



SLAVE-HOLDERS AT THE NORTH. 41 



THE RECEPTION OF SLAVE- 
HOLDERS AT Til E X OUT II. 



: a i \ . 



To .) jcharge the duty of faithful rebuke 
those who are violating the plain commands of the 
• ) [jgh God, requires an amount of moral 
,,. which few pos Naturally we arc in- 

clined to cov< I the good will of our fellow pil- 
grims. A Bmile accompanied with the voice 
friendship, is more acceptable and comforting 
than a frown, indicating feelings of bitterness. 
Papecially is the duty of rebuke, uttered to the 
wrong-doer, a great trial to our Christian integ- 
rity, when by ties of kindred and long familial 
lintance we arc influenced to forbear. The 
pe ( . sample of Jesus, and the truthfulness of 

i 2 



42 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

the Apostles and early Christians, present a prof- 
itable theme upon which to expatiate. But sad is 
our deficiency of imitation in respect to a consist- 
ent practice. 

I apprehend one of the strong holds of the dark 
and terrible system of American slavery is to be 
found in the reception of slave-holders at the 
North. The southerner finds it pleasant and 
profitable often, for a season, to turn his back upon 
the land of " whips and chains," and mingle with 
relatives, friends and acquaintances at the north. 
Inflated with the pride of a tyrant, — wrapped up 
in a garment of self-esteem, he deigns to pass 
himself off as an honest and moral man in the 
community where he chances to make a tempora- 
ry sojourn. He throws himself back upon his dig- 
nity and chivalry, and walks erect as though no 
foul stain rested upon his garments. Say you, he 
is an ignorant sinner? It may in a measure be so. 
I have no time to discuss this point. 

But how is the slave-holder received by those 
who profess to look upon Man-stealing as a sin ? 
Does he hear the voice of remonstrance and warn- 



• I.aVE-HOLDERS at the north. 43 

ing : Is he told of his atrocious crimes ofraur- 
<Ur, theft, and adultery? Docs he understand 
from bia intercourse with us, that we view him as 
a vile and notorious limner f Does he feel like 
Blading OUT presence, and calling upon darkness 
to hide him from the light of truth and relieve his 
il from the pain which consequently follows 
WOTdfl of " truth and subn-n, 1 >oes he return 

to his fool w.,rk of hate and tyranny goaded and 
tormented out ol by what bia eyes have 

. Dj :in ,i : beard in the ao Cnorthern- 

Doea the rattle of the chain terrify bia 
Poet the streaming blood which follows 
the _ ion lash harro* bia c mscience : I »oes 
llie p| e , r sundered hearta around the 

auction block • bia kn lite in an- 

ruisfa : Does the mighty flood of licentious^ w 
kiieh meets bis eye at every turn, pain and 
wcken bis soul F Alas, we must answer, no. 
With the comfortable assurance, " I am not a 
,nor above others," the Blave-holder returns from 
bis pleasant visit to the north. His banda are 
then* d in the dark work of oppression. He 



44 LIBERTY CHIMES, 

has procured an anodyne to his conscience, and 
hugs his robber-plunder to his " heart of hearts.'' 
To all about him he proclaims the pleasing tidings 
of a gracious reception, nattering carresses, and 
constant marks of attention from those who arc 
supi osed to be the enemies of their "peculiar in- 
stitution." 

Abolitionists, these " tilings ought not so to be." 
We are too faint-hearted, too taciturn, too tame, 
in respect to the monster who perpetrates the 
sin of Man-stealing. On our part^at least, there 
should be no compromise — no good natured truce 
with the man in whose character concentrates all 
the works of damning darkness. Let us respect 
and count humanity too sacred to treat a slave- 
holder like a gentleman, and brand the horse- 
thief as a villain. The character of the former is 
as black as the fabled regions of darKness com- 
pared with the latter. Mercy shall be our theme 
to the repentant soul, and "tribulation, anguish and 
wrath upon every man that doeth evil." In the 
meek, mild, yet uncompromising spirit of Him 
who came to " preach deliverance to the captive.*' 



I LATE-HOLDERS A1 THC NORTH. 45 

let us Bound th< of rebuke in every slave- 

mes within speaking distance. 
Then shall o and/eei that pre are true to 

our | —true to the crushed bondman, 

and truel G d. 
1 1 irtDAi i . V • 



46 LIBERTY CRIMES. 



TREASON! TREASON!! TREA- 
SON!!! 

BY C. K. WHIPrLE. 

Very well ; be it so ! We do not shrink from 
the name that designates our act, nor do we fear 
the position into which that act brings us. But, 
you who clamor so violently against us, are you 
really so instructed in the affairs of this world as 
to suppose that treason is always and necessarily a 
crime ? 

Truly illustrious are the predecessors whose 
traitorous footsteps we follow. We do not seek 
protection beneath the shelter of their names ; 
truth, right, justice, the arm of the living God, 
are a sufficient defence for us ; but since you need 



treason ! ! 1 47 

die authority winch their eminence and popularity 
give to acts like theirs, you shall have it. 

I!> ard you never of the Roman Brutus, of the 
British Sydney, the Polish Kosciusko, the Greek 
Bozzarris, the American Washington, Hancock, 
Adam-. Warren, Henry r Rank traitors were 
every one of them ! resistersof established 
authority, violators of law. and each not only ex- 
p .-■ d, but certain, had he fallen alive into the 
hands of the existing and established government 
of his country, to have died a traitor's death. 

These men were defenders of liberty of conr 
nee, freedom of thought, speech and action, 
the rights of the minority ; they recognized in jus- 
tic something superior to law and rightfully tak- 
ing i ace of it. Without expressing thern- 
themselves in Bible phraseology, their actions 
plainly said, "Whether it be right in the sight 
of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, 
judge vf •;'" and if those to whom this appeal was 
made judged blindly and unjustly, these conscien- 
tious traitors renounced that decision, judged for 
themselves., followed up their judgment with ac- 



48 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

tion, and cheerfully risked, for the sake of princi- 
ple, the loss of property, life, and present reputa- 
tion, knowing that the truth which they held fast 
was more precious than all these combined. 

The very men who now cry out so zealously for 
law and order, as if there were no better things 
in the universe, are loudest in their praises of 
Washington for his resistance to law, and his vi- 
olation of order. Alas! their inconsistency gives 
us reason to fear that the success of the Ameri- 
can revolution, rather than its justice, gives it 
glory in their eyes. 

But was not Washington's rebellion against the 
tyrannical British laws as just and righteous while 
he bore the obloquy and risked the doom of a 
traitor, as now that he has become the idol of the 
world ? The justice of a revolutionary movement 
then is quite independent of success or failure, and 
may be decided with perfect certainty while the 
result is yet pending. It is to be settled, not by 
armies or majorities, alike impotent attempts of 
might to make right, but by deliberate inquiry 
into the merits of the case, and an application to 



TREASON ! ! ! 49 

it of the plain and immutable rules of right and 
wrong. If these show distinctly and decidedly 
for while a single doubt remains upoa a subject 
01 such moment, we should refrain from action,) 
if these show distinctly and decidedly, that the hu- 
man law in question is opposed to essential justice 
and the law of God, it should be to us as if it 
had never been, and should receive from us no 
more respect or consideration than any other de- 
tected imposture. 

Socrates, Jesus, Paul, for vindicating the 
claims of righteousness against existing laws, 
d and rej< cted of men, and finally 
Buffered death, stigmatized as enemies of the civil 
and religious institutions of their country. But 
the judgment of their contemporaries has been 
completely reversed by posterity. Their names 
are now held in high esteem, and men say, and 
qo doubt Beriously think. ,; it' we had lived in those 
we would not have been partakers in the 
blood of those just men." But are we uncharita- 
ble in Buspecting that they deceive themselves, 
when we see them denouncing and reproaching 

D 



LIBERTY CHIMES. 

the men of the present day who, like those illus- 
trious martyrs, make right their standard rather 
than law ? 

With such laws of this country as are just and 
righteous, we have no quarrel; but in so far as 
they authorize slavery, and enjoin war for its sup- 
port, we repudiate and renounce them ; we can- 
not respect, and we will not obey them. 

Such is the position of abolitionists. Let us 
see now what those are doing whom abolitionists 
call pro-slavery men. 

The southern church and state (as represented 
by Governer Hammond and Rev. Dr. Fuller of 
South Carolina,) are putting forth an elaborate 
defence of slavery from the Bible, and declaring 
the perfect accordance of that "sum of all villain- 
ies" with their religious system ; and the north- 
ern church and state, (as represented by Bishop 
Doane and the Honorable Rufus Choate i are 
coming to the same end by a different course, 
namely, a defence of the divine right of govern- 
ments, which if established, would show by neces- 
sary implication that whatever crime a governor 



LEASON ! ! ! j\ 

amands may be perpetrated without guilt by 
bject. Thus priests and politicians of'the 
i tic south play into each other's hands 
for of slavery. The leaders in church 

and state boldl lulgate these detestable doc- 

trine-, tii the lie to the 1 and 

Declaration of Independence, both of which they 

> hold sacred. . and 
up the movement 
by thiMw \\ heir power in 

the way of the abolitionist. 

What is the duty, in this emergency, of faith- 
ful followers of him who was at once Prince of 
Peace and preacher of deliveran captiv< 

Are we to '' becau 

• Reverends," and ," an 1 " I lon- 

orables" are binding 

tist him because these titled pcr- 
at themselves as r ecru il ^eants, 

U3 their dis ion from the sin of 

ily! 
( iristianity, while it repudiates carnaKw 

- on agai 



52 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

all sin. We are now liable at any moment to 
be called upon by our profligate government 
to commit one of the most detestable of crimes 
in its support. A war in favor of Texas would 
be a war against the slave! A war in favor of Tex- 
as would be the deliberate support of slavery by 
murder! Let those wage such a war who will; 
but let them be aware that they are to find in the 
rapidly increasing band of Anti-Slavery men and 
women neither support nor acquiescence, but de- 
termined, active opposition. They will find the 
cry of " treason" as powerless as that of tl infidel- 
ity" to restrain us. Regardless of both, while 
we feel ourselves supported by the precepts and ex- 
ample of Christ, we repeat the declaration: We 
will not countenance or aid the United States 
Government in any war which may be occasioned 
by the annexation of Texas, or in any other war, 
foreign or domestic, designed to strengthen or 
perpetuate slavery. 
Boston, Mass. 



HIE BOND-WOMAN 5 rR.VVER. 0-3 



V ] I I : B OND-WO M A N ' S P R A Y E R 

hi up mi the -till niLflit air, 
The crackling flames 9hot high, 
\ii.1 darkly <ini.-<l their amokj breath 
\ : . jt the e unmi i - j , — 

\\ torture, fierce and keen, — 

\ franti • cry, 

Of quivering flesh, and scorching limb, 

And mad'ning pangs to 'I 

\ no :i of morl • — 

\ voice of mighty prayer, — 

- 
The thick and stifling air. 

D2 



54 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

" God of Egypt's bondmen, 

Avenger of their wrong, 
For thy suffering children, 

Thine arm, O God, is strong !" 

But shriek, and groan, and prayer grew faint- 

The glaring flames roar'd on 
Till brightly o'er the mouldering pile, 

Arose the morning sun. 

The burthen of that Spirit's curse — 

And has it pined away, 
The curse, that human agony 

Wrung from those lips of clay ? 

An heritage of blood and tears, 

Of all untasted woe, 
Into our country's brimming cuj'. 

Must from her bondmen flow. 

A blasting, scorching breath goes up, 

From all her suffering ones, 
The shadow of a coming wrath, 

Fast settles round her sons. 

Boston. Mass. 



CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 



CHRISTIANITY, THE RELI 
GION OF PEACE, ADAPTED 

TO T HE would :- 



BV - 



I- il Bafe to forgive enemies, t<> love them, to 
irn to them good for evil ? Can the meek in- 
herit t!i«- earth . : [s Christianity, the religion of 
peace, adapted to the world . : Anans^ g .en 

t • i testions by the bayonet and the 8 word, 

by the pomp of military array; the answer is heard 
in the beat of the drum, in the roar of the cannon 

Q by the 91 -man in his vaunt of na- 
tional Btrength, by the soldier in Ins aspiration for 
fame, by everv one who maintains the necessity 
for the appeal to arms. This answer is No ' cm- 

atically No ! We cannot love our enemies 



56 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

we cannot do good to those who injure us ; we 
cannot return good for evil. The meek cannot in- 
herit the earth. Christianity is not adapted to the 
world. 

The reasoning of men gives the same answer. 
The spirit of Jesus Christ, who, when smitten, sub- 
mitted, when reviled, reviled not again, who was 
led as a lamb to the slaughter — this spirit of meek- 
ness and self-sacrifice is not proper for man ! 
We have duties to discharge to others as well as 
to ourselves, which demand the opposite traits of 
character. If we did not resist evil, it would be 
an encouragement to evil-doers ; if we submitted 
to fraud, injustice, or rebellion, the result would 
be that confusion and bloodshed would every where 
prevail. If a nation were to bear one insult with 
Christian humility, it would open the way for fur- 
ther manifestations of contempt ; if an aggression 
were humbly submitted to, it would be repeated ; 
if one inch of territory were given up, the whole 
would be claimed. Life, property, and welfare 
depend on the sword, for there are many nations, 
living in peace and security, without Christianity, 



CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. Oi 

but who ever heard of a civilized people, which 

did not recognize the appeal to arms for defence ? 

It is the garrison, not the pulpit — the soldier, not 

the priest — bold --. oot humility — the power to 

-, not the disposition to endure wrong, 

which minister t<> the happiness of the world. W e 

, I 1 on the trumpet-tone of war, not on the whis- 

of kindness. We are preserved by 

iw of i >t by the law of love. "\\ e put 

our trust in ength of the right arm, not in 

the p I. A religion of peace is not 

adapted to the \\ orld. 

There is no common ground, no meeting point, 
immingling togi ther of the spirit of Christ and 

ODD I 

innot bring them to- 
gether in the same heart. A man can at best but 
them ; he can only decide when 
he will be humble, when e :lf-confident — when he 
will submit, when rebel — when ho will be mild and 
forbearing, when harsh and revengeful — when he 
will be peaceable, when warlike. It is impossible 
to combine these conflicting traits of character, 
ite purposes ; what ! a valiant soldier. 



08 liberty chimes. 

smitten upon one cheek, turning the other to the 
foe — a meek Christian ready to meet injury with 
injury, blood with blood ! 

We know that it has been by some pretended 
that the law of love is not intended to go into full 
operation until some lapse of time ; that the bind- 
ing effect of the gospel is put off to some future 
day, to some indefinite period, when the whole 
world shall become converted and christianized ; 
then there will be no necessity for the fight, no 
need of the recourse to the sword. We can all be 
meek then, and safely too. But surely, a religion, 
which commands love to enemies, is not adapted 
to a world, where there are no enemies to be loved. 
What becomes of our present duties as followers 
of the Prince of Peace, here, in the present state, 
now, at this very time, when there are enemies to 
be loved and wrongs to be borne ? It has been 
said too, that the great and paramount office of 
Christianity is to save men's souls ; that it is a 
personal affair between God and the individual 
conscience, that it takes no special cognizance of 
the political or social relations, having in all its 



CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 59 

laws reference to the eternal interests, the peculi- 
ar inner good of every man, the salvation of the 
soul. Be it so. It is not he, who saycth, Lord! 
Ma th his will, who imbibes 

his spirit— it is he, who is saved. Now, the will 
of our Saviour is, that we do good to our enemies ; 
the spirit of our M i yield up even life it- 

self for their safety. 

Thifl t; preparation for heav- 

that th<«re should be law, 
securit; i bere. This world 

wag ,. ,. , P eat( d as a mere thrcc-score-and-ten of 
;in; „>, as a dreary prison house 

to hold : "' tna1, ThlS lri 

. | ,d's truth ! He attests to it himself in the mag- 

isionofhisgiftsto 

men [ye energy has been exerted— as 

may well appear to us— to its utmost range. Look 

p 0n this - theatre of the present life, our 

beautiful world, rolling continually through almost 

illimitable Bpace, that the sun afar off may warm 

and cheer, < eerj part of it, surllicc, that the rays 

each .tar of the heavenly host may be drunk 



60 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

in by every eye, making even " darkness trans- 
parent" and beautiful. It is delight to breathe in 
such a world, to eat of its fruit, to drink at its 
chrystal springs, to have the cheek bathed in its 
balmy winds, the senses soothed by its colors and 
shapes, its fragrance and melody; its varied sur- 
face and its changes, its order, its permanence, all 
these, all, pertaining to the time-vesture of God, 
prove that the world is not a mere appendage of 
little value in itself, but that it is a part of eterni- 
ty, and that the welfare of man here in this life is 
the aim and object of the Almighty God. 

He, then, who is commissioned to declare the 
will of our Father in Heaven, and to ordain laws 
upon the earth, will make known those truths, and 
establish that government which sympathizes with 
nature, and which will minister to the happiness 
of man and the welfare of society. A revelation 
from Heaven will contain an element of social or- 
der, will guard our lives, our rights, our happiness 
upon the earth. 

The world has not found this element of social 
order in meek Christianity. It dares not to carry 



CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 61 

out into the social relations, the mild, merci- 
ful and self-sacrificing spirit. It has pronounced 
its judgment that the religion of peace, which 
would strike from its hand the sword, is not adapt- 
ed to the or* curity and happiness of man. 
What then i- to he done: Surely if the thorough 
and complete obedience to the letter and spirit of 
Christ's teaching, u when smitten upon one check, 
turn ye the oth< i would give full scope to 
evil — overthrow all authority — expose the chris- 
tian t" < i i :i' - of crime — deluging the earth 
with blood, 90 that neither the wives of our bosoms, 
nor the children of our hearts, neither the voting 
in their innocency, nor the eld in their feebleness, 
could be mould we net abjure it at once, 
boldly and i« arl< ad not i >>ntinue to profess 
it with the lips, when almost <j\cvy act is a denial 
of its authority f 

This is a startling question to ask in this land, 
where outward i at least is claimed for the 

religion of peace. It is however but a distinct ut- 
terance of • very prevalent doubt; it is but the 
putting into words the skepticism of many hearts; 

E 



62 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

it is but giving a tongue to men's actions, lan- 
guage, to the conduct of the world! Why shrink 
you when we demand that you be honest men, 
and with straight forward integrity of soul either 
abandon the sword or that religion which saith, 
st Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the 
earth?" 

We for ourselves entertain no doubts upon this 
subject; we are prepared to come at once to the 
standard of Christianity; to give up the sword, 
and to let the oppressed go free! 

If this gospel made a slight change only in the 
social relations, if it only modified existing cus- 
toms, we should have great reason lo doubt of its 
being from God. It is the characteristic of human 
legislation to form half-way expedients; to toler- 
ate imperfection; to rest satisfied with evil, if 
there be good mingled with it; to sanction injury 
to some, if others are delivered from violence. 
Directly opposite is the principle which comes 
of God. This changes at once and altogether 
the relations of men. It assumes a higher pur- 
pose. It acts by opposite means. If,— we repeat 



CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 63 

the idea, if the gospel were intended only to cheek 
or diminish the evil, if it cast but some sweet upon 
the gall of bitterness, if it but restrained the use of 
the sword, if it had a measure for the proper de- 
gree of violence, if it permitted hatred to burn in 
the human heart for any purpose whatever, if it 
consented that love should be quenched by any 
evil that can be inflicted, it might be the invention 
of some wise man, not the revelation from God. 
But the gospel utters a law, firm, fixed, unyield- 
ing ; a law which can never be made to minister 
to selfishness ; a law which admits of no exception 
or excuse. It forbids us to do any evil to others 
for our good. It puts the axe at the root of the 
tree. It takes at once from all wars and fightings 
the sanction of God. Nothing short of this full, 
clear, explicit law could come from the Prince of 
Peace, nothing short of this can extend his reign 
over the earth. 

f ' :: is mouth, X N. 



64 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



THE PLEDGE AND PROSPECT 
OF PEACE. 



I5Y ELIHU BURRITT. 



There is a fellowship in a common suffering 
and a common joy, which makes brothers of mil- 
lions, irrespective of name or nation. And there 
are millions in this country and the British empire 
who have just recognized this common bond of 
peace, and shaken hands in perpetual amity. 
Without asking leave of their governments, they 
have signed the same pledge of peace — the pledge 
of Total Abstinence. With hearts throbbing 
with the common sympathies of their nature, they 
have put their hands to an instrument that make? 
them brethren. By a united struggle, they have 



THE PROSPECT OF PEACE. 65 

broken the thraldom of one common and dreadful 
lemy ; and will they think of mutual slaughter, 
while mingling in a common jubilee over their in- 
ch | e ? 

And there are other millions, on both 
the Atlantic, who have recently signed a more ex- 
tensive and solemn treaty of peace. They have 
formed a vast " Home League" with all the at- 
tributes of God, nature and humanity, to restore 
the millions of human b< ':o have been ex- 

patriated from tin- gr< at brotherhood of mankind. 
The light of the Gospel has revealed an Archt- 
lian point of rest ; and th >t a lever 

under the slavb ; a lever wh me longer aim reaches 
into Heaven, and is » beneath the 

ight of G terns] throne ami all his angels 

of lm ht. O, they wi!i raise him ! they will raise 
him ! without the aid or consent of human legisla- 
tion. And think you those swelling millions will 
ip from that descending lever to fight a nation- 
al duel, and soil their souls with the blood of fra- 
tricide - 

i ' war, there is treason in your can 



66 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

There are a hundred thousand " Hartford Con- 
ventions" holding their simultaneous sessions, 
once a week, all over Christendom, on purpose to 
frustrate your belligerent projects. A secret coa- 
lition of people of all languages and tongues, is 
now on foot to transfer your empire to a foreign 
power which you have refused to acknowledge. 
Multitudes of your countrymen are first and fore- 
most in this deep-laid plot. A new but long pre- 
dicted Kingdom is about to be established, which 
shall embrace the whole continent of humanity. 
Its great Founder, the Prince of Peace, has al- 
ready been crowned King of Kings. His coro- 
nation was celebrated in the courts of heaven long 
before the creation of man. The promise that 
he should reign King of nations as he does King of 
saints, is as old as eternity, strong as the pillars 
of his Father's throne. His government is or- 
ganized ; his officers are appointed ; and thou- 
sands in America have taken rank in his Legion of 
Honor, and bear about in their bosoms the Bethle- 
hem Star of their heavenly knighthood. The code 
of bis immutable laws has been published. He 



THE PROSPECT OF PEACE. 67 

himself read the last proof sheet and sealed it with 
his blood, when he cried on Calvary, •' It is fin- 
ished ! It is finished.'!" With his dying breath 
he made it the test of allegiance to carry his stat- 
ute book to the uttermost corners of the earth and 
read it in the ears of every human being. Thou- 
sands and thousands of the most patriotic sons of 
America and the most loyal subjects of Britain 
have taken the oath of that covenant and received 
that heavenly commission. Six tunes a year, in 
solemn convocation, they renew the sublime terms 
of their fealty, and swear upon the altar of their 
God and King, that, whether the British empire 
stand or fall, whether the experiment of the 
American Republic succeed or fail, they and their 
children and their children's children, will adhere 
to the letter of their covenant with the Prince of 
Peace. The Christians of the Anglo-Saxon race 
have been singled out as kings and priests unto 
God, as co workers with him in the redemption of 
mankind. And think you they will prove recreant 
to their heavenly calling r Will they exchange 
the bad-re of Jesus for the tri-colored cockade of 



63 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

some bloody faction ? Will they throw away their 
august commission for one in your armies and na- 
vies ? No ! they have signed a commercial trea- 
ty with eternity ; a treaty of eternal peace. 

And let me say in conclusion, that, in the recent 
treaty with Great Britain, the two great Anglo- 
Saxon nations have at last recognized these mighty 
and multifarious bonds of peace. Look on Bun- 
ker Hill ! There stands the Grave Stone of 
war ! Through all the remaining ages of the 
race, a consecrated halo of heaven's purest light 
will encircle its august and lofty brow. Sweeter 
than strains of fabulous melody, the perennial mu- 
sic of peace will breathe from its every granite 
pore, awakening responding symphonies in the 
hearts of a thousand generations. The myriads 
that recently gathered around that hill, felt all 
their heart-fibres thrilling within them, when 
that great man concentrated all the power of his en- 
chaining eloquence upon the prediction, that in a 
future age, he who leaned against that monument 
would thank his God that he, also, was an Ameri- 
can. Methinks that future ages will disclose a 



THE PROSPECT OF PEACE. 69 

higher destiny for that towering column ; that it 
will suggest a loftier theme of exultation ! Let 
me tell the great Webster, and his English coad- 
jutoi in this conquest of peace, that it will be part 
of their eternal reward, to have hastened the age 
when the term " American" shall convey no pre- 
gative of freedom not enjoyed by every being 
that wears God's image upon earth ; when not 
only the American, but the African, when he 
comes to stand within the peaceful penumbra of 
that obelisk, shall say, with tears of grateful ex- 
ultation : "/ thank my God that 1 also, am a 
m \n — a man !" 
Elm wood, M 



70 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



THE CONTRAST 



BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 



Thy love thou sontcst oft to me, 
And still, as oft, I thrust it back ; 

Thy messengers I could not see 
In those who every thing did lack, 
The poor, the outcast, and the black. 



ii. 



Pride held his hand before mine eyes, 

The world with flattery stuffed mine ears ; 

I looked to see a monarch's guise, 

Nor dreamed thy love would knock for years. 
Poor, naked, fettered, full of tears. 



THE CONTRAST. 7 I 



III. 



I ■ ■ , when I sent my love to thee, 
Thou with a smile didst take it in, 

And enU-rtain'dst it royally, 

Though grimed with earth, with hunger thin, 
And leprous with the taint of sin. 



IV, 



Now, i-v.-ry day thy love I : 

Aa o'ei ill*' earth it wanders wide, 
With weary step and bleeding feet, 
Still knocking at the heart of pride 

And offering grace, though still denied. 



l'.i mw M M. 



72 LIBERTY CHIMES 



SELF-RELIANCE. 

BY II. C'LAPP, JR. 

Axtislavery has no lesson which it teaches so 
plainly as the great lesson of self -reliance. I do 
not, of course, mean by self-reliance, that intense 
egotism which discovers no wisdom beyond the 
narrow walls of its own mind, and which is there- 
fore as superficial as it is supercilious, and as in- 
tolerable as it is intolerant ; — but, rather, and 
simply, that unfaltering reliance on one's highest 
convictions and purest instincts, which is supreme- 
ly indifferent to the evershifting current of popular 
feeling, while at the same time it sees beneath the 
earthy incrustations of every soul some spark of 
the absolute truth. 

" Unstable as water" must that mind be which 



SELF-RELIANCE. 73 

takes for its pole-star either public opinion, or the 
opinion of any sect, clique, or individual. It may 
seem, at first glance, like a becoming humility, to 
distrust the uncertain light which flickers in one's 
own soul, and be guided by what seems the fixed ray 
of some brighter luminary ; — but, depend upon it. 
such a course pursued continually and implicitly, 
though it may commence in a healthful diffidence of 
oin's own powers, will soon degenerate into the 
most debasing Bervility. By all means call to your 
aid, in every important matter, all the counsel and 
advice which you can command; but, as you value 
your uprightness of soul, and desire to walk in the 
path of infiniti \ •, do not receive one jot or tit- 

tle of it as authority. However hallowed by time, or 
< adeared by association, or deified by superstition, 
listen to no one as an authority, and be subject to 
no rule but the clear utterance of your own reason, 
and the still small voice of your own soul. 

It is the utter want of this self-reliance wkich 
keeps many beautiful spirits aloof from the 
antislavery movement. They cannot but per- 
ceive, and to some extent appreciate, its claims 

F 



74 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

upon their attention ; but their moral systems 
have become so completely unnerved and confused 
by long, sad years of devotion to sect and au- 
thority, that they have no confidence in their own 
judgment, and are frightened by their own footfall 
and shadow. Seeing that the Genius of Reform 
is superior to those Creeds and Teachers which 
they have been accustomed to receive and rever- 
ence as the exponents and expositors of God's 
Truth, they feel that every touch of her mighty 
wand is moral desolation and death. And, in 
their present servile and abject state well they 
may ; for the very sight of her makes the walls of 
their sanctuary tremble, and shrinks their high- 
priests, who but now bore the seeming of brave 
and portly men, into pitiful cowards and hideous 
d warts. 

Nothing in the history of the world is more 
striking, or more instructive of good, than the 
withering effect which this same Genius of Reform 
has upon the popular religion, and its servile ad- 
herents. Her approach is more terrible to them 
than " an army with banners." To their elisor- 



SELF-RELIAN 



.1 eyes her white robes are spotted with 
blood, and her peaceful wand is a flaming sword. 
They Bee from her as from a pestilence, and at 
the mention of her name the traitorous blood de- 
serts their checks, and with livid face, and lurid 
C things appeal piteously to the rude 
luce to save their priesthood from d< 
thi ark of their God/rum desolation. 

is the hold which the popular relig 
. m!!v and - we have Been it to • — 

ipon the thoughtless multitude, they dare not 
itep without the consent of its authori- 
who have the good sense to perceive that any 
;> — unless it lie a step backward — will 
ital to it- existence. And bo the people 
hold back, despite their inmost convictions, from 
.ward movement, and throw all th 
.n its way which, with their remaining c 
they dare in 
V • .'. i to me that it only needs lot 

of the community to do their own 
thinking in order to remedy this state of thing-, 
and - an immense acce- i the reform 



76 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

And it is equally necessary to continue in this 
excellent habit (of doing one's own thinking in- 
stead of having it, like so much sewing " done 
out") after you have entered those ranks. To 
this end — if the reader will pardon a little dogmat- 
ic advice — sign no creeds ; bind yourselves to no 
constitutions ; choose to yourselves no Kings or 
Presidents ; submit your judgment to no commit- 
tees ; engage in no political tactics ; and submit 
to no parliamentary, congressional, or (for they 
are all of a piece) constabular discipline. Touch 
any of these things and you will be defiled. En- 
gage in any of them, and you will find (if you are 
a fugitive from church or state) that you have only 
changed one priesthood for another, — and that 
while you have been congratulating yourself on 
a happy escape from the meshes of sect and 
clique, you are more hopelessly entangled in its 
cunning web than ever. The only hope of your 
soul — here or " hereafter" — is the preservation of 
your individuality,— in other words the mainten- 
ance of your own soul as a separate, distinct, en- 
tire existence, subject to no authority and amena- 



A THOUGHT UPON* EMANCIPATION. < < 

ijle to no discipline, — save the authority and disci- 
pline of the divine law as written out and declared 
the • " oracle within." 
J a n.v. Mass 



Yl 



LIBERTY CHIMES. 



A THOUGHT UPON EMANCI- 
PATION . 

" Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not, 
Who would be free themselves, must strike the blow ?" 

The abolitionists during the last twelve years 
have, by incessant and untiring zeal and labor, 
accomplished winders. They have spoken loud 
and long in behalf of human rights, and the whole 
nation has heard their terrible denunciations against 
slavery, and their earnest and thrilling appeals for 
freedom. They have removed the drapery, which 
while it allowed the " happy" and "contented" 
features of slavery to be seen, hid the awful enor- 
mity of the slave system from public view. And 
now, that system reeking with the blood of its 
millions of victims, whose bodies have been tortur- 
ed and whose minds have been ruined — stands ex- 



A THOUGHT LTON EMANCIPATION. 79 

posed to the gaze of the world, in the full broad 
light of day. 

But much yet remains to be done, and much 
that can only be accomplished by the efforts of 
the race in whose behalf the abolitionists are la- 
i n s . 

Who would I ■ I strike the blow." 

efforts of the abolitionists may possibly re- 
move the outward forms of bondage. The lash may 
i: i Longer be raised — the human auction block may 
no lo: aid in the market place — human flesh 

no long' >ld like cattle. — But after all — 

i':i« real freedom of the negro race can never be at- 
tained except by the unceasing efforts of its mem- 
Tin •. can never rise in the scale of civiliza- 
iiccomc artizans — scholars — useful and 
practi \o their own individual 

e abolitionists can be of but little 
help t'> them in the Btruggle for the highest eman- 
cipation Th ;. can at most but open the door and 
it i- at the opti 'ii of the colored man to cross its 
threshold. 



80 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

Even, now, the slave himself need no longer be 
a slave . Has he the heroism to prefer death to 
slavery and the system is at an end. 

Let the terrible determination go forth through 
all Slavedom, that the slave, will not work — will not 
eat — will not rise up or lie down at the bidding of an 
owner and will be free or die, and it is done. To- 
morrow's sun beholds a nation of freemen indeed. 

What can the South do against three millions of 
determinations to die, rather than move another 
finger as a slave ? Would the lash — would the 
bayonet avail? Powerless all. Terrible — terrible 
indeed would be that negation of Slavery, uttered 
by three millions of victims. 

Already do we see indications of this spirit in 
the attempts of large numbers of " property" to 
walk quietly away from their assumed ownership. 
And soon may we hope, that the slaves throughout 
the land will assert their claims to humanity with 
the omnipotent might of non-resistance and on the 
very spot of their oppression. C. 

Providence, R. I. 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 



T II E S LAVE-W IFE. 

fiV - K. GREEN. 

Among the numerous facts, which our " pecu- 
liar Institution" is continually developing — facts, 
which from the wild daring on the one hand, and 
the deep malignity on the other, outvie the most 
extravagant romance, may be found evidence that 
truth is, indeed, Bt ranger than fiction. The fol- 
lowing story was related to me by one who well 
knew the parties ; and 1 give it, nearly as possible. 
in his ow n words. 

• I had been," said he, " sojourning for seve- 
ral weeks at Dawn, Upper Canada, which you well 
know, was settled by a colony of Fugitive Slaves, 
rving the regenerating influence of a free at- 
mosphere, which is dady working out a phenome- 
non more wonderful than the dreaming alchemist 



82 LIBERTY CHI3IES. 

ever imputed to the philosopher's stone — the trans- 
mutation of chattels into men. These facts stand 
out against the deep black ground of Slavery, like 
miracles wrought in lightning, and fraught with 
an interest strong and deep as the eternal inter- 
ests of humanity. There are among these 
people some fine specimens of the race, whom it 
would do our negro-haters good to know — and 
many whose fine manly character — ay, and intel- 
lect also, would put to the blush our traducers of 
the colored race. Of all these none pleased me bet- 
ter, or interested me more deeply, than Laco Ray. 
He was, I think, as fine a specimen of the physi- 
cal man, as I ever knew. Tall, muscular, and 
every way well-proportioned, he had the large ex- 
pansion of chest and shoulders that are seen in 
the best representations of Hercules. He was 
quite black, the skin soft and glossy ; but the 
features had none of the revolting characteristics 
which are supposed by some to be inseparable from 
the African visage. On the contrary they were 
remarkably fine — the nose aquiline — the mouth 
even handsome — the forehead singularly high and 
broad. Superadded to this was a noble intellect. 



THE SLAVE-WIFE 83 

i r of language and expression which, 
ir happier circumstances, might have produc- 
ed the poet, or the orator, and which under every 
incumbrance rose at times to the loftiest elo- 
ce, I had often been astonished at the - 

exercise of this power : — and the rude 

among whom we dwelt \\ ] . felt, and 

quiel to the sway of a master-spirit. 

Although he had been In Dawns onlv about two 

ee of in- 
fluen ng his people — and both for integrity 

and ability he was highly esteemed. But notwith- 
standing all this I observed that a deep shadow 
■ his heart, and that there was a 
hich nothing appeared to fill. 
me more distinct as I knew 
mm avinced that some very 

painful circumstance connected with his former 
hung like a pall above him, darkening the 
glad . and making bitter the free air he 

Mined to learn his history from 
In- o iii the first opportunity that p 



34 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

I had been walking through the fields of various 
acquaintances, conversing with them as they 
worked, or listening to the happy song, or the 
merry whistle that rang out on the clear air of a 
fine spring morning, when, at about nine o'clock, I 
leaned over the rude fence that enclosed the field 
where my friend Laco was at work. He was at 
the lower end of the lot ; and I stood listening to 
the native melodies that resounded on every side. 
There was in this music a fullnes of joy that spoke 
at once of the consciousness and the love of free- 
dom ; yet not unmingled_with occasional notes of 
the sweetest and the deepest pathos, that whis- 
pered of friends left far behind, yet groping darkly 
in the land of bondage ; or, may be, it uttered 
the sadness which belonged to memory — or pic- 
tured forth shadows which the long-brooding wing 
of Slavery yet left resting on the free soul. It 
was infinitely touching ; and I could not listen to 
it without tears. As Laco drew near, I saw that 
he was unusually sad and disinclined to talk ; and, 
after passing the compliments of the morning, he 
dropped his eyes to the ground, and appeared 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 83 

quite absorbed with his business of planting. I 
v/aited, deliberating within myself how I should 
enter upon the subject, until he had advanced 
to the end of the row, and stood opposite me. 

'• Well Laco," I said, extending my hand, as - 
he was about turning to commence another row, 
,( This is a fine morning, but you arc not quite in 
the spirit of it. You seem unhappy. Has any 
tiling happened i ?" 

do. Nothing happen to Laco, 
now. Nothing now ever happen to him," he re- 
plied, turning upon inc a look of unutterable sad- 

•■ Why de you saj that, Laco ? you surely 
happy now you are free ; and you cannot be 
ii auty of this lovely morning ! 
The : inbuilt is Bhining abroad. The birds 

are Binging. The neighbors are singing. They 
are ha »py — all are happy. Why should not Laco 
sing and be happy too :" 

•• The birds," be answered, " are singing songs 

Bach one has a mate in his nest ; but 

Laco is cold and silent. Why then should 

G 



86 LIBERTY CHI3IE3. 

he sing ? The free are singing the song of lib- 
erty ; — but the light of Laco's freedom is put 
out. The sun is shining very bright ; but he 
never reach here," he added, laying a hand on 
his breast, and smiling with the expression of one 
who feels that he has already met the worst. 
" Massa very good ; but he never make darkness 
light — he never make the dead live again. It's no 
use talking, Massa. Laco better work. If he 
would cat, he must make corn grow. Talking 
never help him ; M and he turned away, as if re- 
solved to say nothing more. 

"Excuse me Laco," I urged, as I sprang over 
the fence and stood beside him, " I am your friend. 
Speak to me freely, as to a friend — a brother — 
and the confidence may relieve you. I see your 
story is a sad one." 

" Ah, Massa, so slave story always be. But 
come to the cabin, Massa ; and Laco will tell 
you, what he has whispered only in the great ear 
of night, when God and angels alone are waking. ' ; 
He threw down his hoe in the furrow and sprang 
oyer the fence at a single bound. I followed 



THC SLAVE-WIFE. t}7 

a ; and with a few more steps we stood in the 
log-cabin where he spent the solitary hours of 

'. A draught of cool milk and water refreshed 

f on the ground near the 

rude bench he had offer after a pause of 

some minutes marked by profound emotion, he 

l ' 111 hut heart-thrilling story. 

•■ 1 was raised on th< plantation of J. C , 

bad a kinder master. 
At the age of twenty-two I married Clusy Davis, a 
girl of twenty, Sh • was white. At least no one 
would suspect that she had any African blood in her 
*«ins. 1 that the only trace of it was 

in I. nid they w r 6j and soft, and 

brilliant, altho py black. 1 believe no one 

without loving her — <\\r was ?o 

an 1 kind, and gentle— and no one ever saw 

her without admiring her beauty — which I may 

saw the like of, in the fairest 

lady that ever -hid lened the heart of a free man ; 

[,v it is ( t'.ii-> d.tv since I laid her in her 

lonely grave away out there in Maryland; ami 

■ but !n • soul is left." 



83 LIBERTY CHI3IES. 

He bowed himself to the ground ; and I knew 
by the convulsive heavings of his crouching form 
that he wept bitterly — The unwonted indulgence 
appeared to relieve him. He arose and went out 
a few moments ; and when he returned to his 
seat, all trace of tears had been carefully washed 
away ; and he resumed his narrative. 

" I had long been tenderly attached to Clusy. 
We had loved even from childhood ; and for about 
three months after marriage we were happy as the 
birds. Until that time I had thought little, though 
I had seen much, of the evils of Slavery ; for I 
had begun io love so early, and this so entirely 
took up my attention, that I had little time to 
dwell on the sorrows of my less fortunate compan- 
ions. I had won the favor and confidence of my 
master and mistress. I always had enough to 
eat and drink, and I was well clothed. Upon 
my marriage I was promoted from the post of er- 
rand boy, or runner of the plantation, to that of 
coachman, and as Clusy was the personal attend- 
ant of her mistress this arrangement added much 
to our happiness, as we generally traveled togeth- 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 89 

er. Both parties were mutually pleased with our 
new relation : and. for a tine, all went on hap- 
pily. Clusy was a great favorite with her mistress 
— they bad, indeed, been raised together, and 
were more like sisters, than mistress and slave. — 
Our master and mistress woe married about a 
efore we were ; and they already had a fine 
little boy, <>f which the young parents were very 
proud. Our courtship had advanced together. — 
^ ear in, and ye ir out, we went in company to the 
neighboring plantation ofCol. Davis. We shared 
each other's Bee rets. All our litile love-quarrels 
— all our hopes, and all our fears, were freely 
communicated ; and in the warmth and co; 
dence of mutual friendship, and mutual love, we 
at ttm b, forgot, \\>- were ra nd slave— 

forgot tiiat there v. ill" lay between us wide 

^•>d deep as that which separate s chattels from 
men. Clusy anil I were very happy. All our 
wants were supplied. We were contented in the 
present, and without care for the future. We 
considered ourselves tie' most favored of mortals. 
But how blind was our satisfaction ! We soco 

o2 



90 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

found that we stood in a false position. What is 
true can never come out of falsehood — what is 
right can never come out of wrong. I have known 
Slavery in its best form; but there is no good in it. 
"At length I observed that Clusy was getting 
pale ; and I often found her in tears. I asked her 
the cause — I urged her to tell me ; but she would 
dry them instantly, and say that she was not well 
— or that she was so lonesome she could not help 
crying when I was gone. I saw that this was 
mere pretence, and sought in vain for the truth 
that lay under it : and when, at last, she could 
no longer hide from me the fact of her unhappi- 
ness, she resolutely refused to tell the cause. I 
could find no relief to my anxiety. Strange indis- 
tinct visions of wrong haunted my bed at night, 
and my work by day. A new feeling of insecurity 
came upon me. I felt afraid of I knew not what. 
A dreamy consciousness of my false position be- 
gan to present itself; and a vague sense of the 
horrors of Slavery oppressed me. When I slept 
it lay upon my breast like a night-mare ; and 
when I woke it stared at me with the eyes of a 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 



dl 



fiend, making hideous faces in the dark. It fol- 
lowed me every where. It looked out from the 
corners of the road. It mounted the carriage box 
and sat beside me. This spirit of unrest haunted 
me forever— a strange intimation of the approach 
of -nine unknown evil. It seemed to me that spirits 
were continually whispering words of warning ; 
and though I did not understand their meaning, I 
felt tin :r power. In this manner three months 
more wore heavily away— Clusy all the time get- 
ting p:il« r.vs I aker, and inure .»ik nt : until, at length, 
Bhe trembled as I approached her ; and any act 
of tenderness on my part seemed to terrify her— 
so that 1 began to lose all pleasure in her society 
— and at length seldom visited her. 

'• One holy-day— it was the Fourth of July, I 
had resolved to go to a carouse, with my fellow 
. and drown my troubles in whiskey. My 
master was even more complacent than usual, and 
frave me a generous allowance of money. He 
warmlj encouraged my going, as masters always 
d ,. because whatever sinks the man, secures the 
slave ; and it Beems he had another reason for 



92 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

wishing me absent. I had already left the planta- 
tion and set out to join my companions at a small 
ale-house about half a mile farther, when my pur- 
pose was arrested in a very singular manner. — 
While loitering through the meadow, whistling — 
not so much lor want of thought, as to drown 
thought, I came accidentally to a large magnolia 
tree, where I had first met Clusy, when we were 
both children. I threw myself into the refreshing 
shadow, when the times past and long forgotten, 
seemed to rise up before me. There we had of- 
ten played together in childhood ; and when she 
came to the great house, to this tree I always ac- 
companied her ; and here we always parted. — 
Here, too, she often came to meet me in the long 
starry evenings, after our work was done. Here 
she first promised to be mine ; and here, too, my 
mother blessed us, but a few days before her 
death ; and I remembered well the hot tears that 
fell upon my hand, as it was clasped between the 
bony and shriveled ones of my mother. I thought 
then that she wept because she was going to die ; 
but I know now it was a deeper sorrow, that shook 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. °3 

her so fearfully. Here, too, beneath this very 
tree, we sat. with hand fast locked in hand, on the 
of our man iage ; and here the minister bless- 
illed us one. All these things be- 
wt'.i roe. I lived again in the past; 
and my spirit returned to its former peace. I 
ipl »ned roy i of a frolic. I thought only 

!. ve and Faith once more blossom- 
in „,-,■ h and L hastened to reach the path 
which led to the pretty cottage that her loving mis- 
39 hud built for her. I ran— I Hew along its 
windings— and. almost breathless. 1 reached the 
vinv Bhadow of her porch. I Avould clasp her to 
my heart, winch was throbbing with but one great 
ull ; her— for her alone— my love— my wife. 
1 would assure her of my love— I would make 
ul! ,,• ull m . ;■ coldness. I was nearly 
insane with the violence of my feelings. Oh, God! 
w hat did I see ! y Master rushed from the cot- 
tage j drew Dear— his face Hushed— his eyes 
• rribly bright, As if by the help of a Hash of 
lightning, 1 saw the truth— Too horrible it is to 
i of ! 1 had never been jealous of Clusy— 



94 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



why had I not ?— She was beautiful. She was in 
her master's power. She was in the power of 
every white man that chose to possess her. She 
was no longer mine. She was not my wife. And 
the babe that slept under her bosom— that, too. 
A thousand devils seemed to possess me ! I rush- 
ed into the house. She lay there on her couch, 
pale and almost lifeless. I know not what I did. 
I know not how long a time had passed. I only 
remember that Clusy lay stretched upon the floor, 
and the hot blood that gushed from her mouth and 
nostrils was wetting my feet, and stood in puddles 
upon the ground. A horrible thought that I had 
murdered her took posession of me. I lifted her 
up and bore her to a neighboring spring. I bath- 
ed her head— her hands. I drenched her with 
cold water. For minutes that seemed hours, 
years, ages, I watched to see whether she would 
live or die. At length, slowly, and faintly, she 
opened her eyes ; and the horrid guilt of murder, 
like a great weight, was lifted from my soul. I 
wept, I prayed. I covered her hands, her arms, 
her very feet with kisses. I blessed her with bless- 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 95 

ings that seemed wrought out of my heart's blood, 
" She appeared very weak — too weak to utter 
a sound, though she often strove to do so ; but 
she feebly pressed my hand ; and when she turn- 
ed those large, loving, truthful eyes full upon me, 
looking into B15 vriy soul, I knew that she was 
guiltless. Whatever others might have done, she 
had done no wronji. At length 1 became com- 
pl< telj exhausted. I Bank d >wn beside her, weak 
and belpl< -- B8 a child ; rnd, side by side, with 
resting against cheek, we slept together. 
( llusy was the first to wake, ' Laco,' she whisper- 
ed, ' rise, I pray you ! Massa will be very 
angry, if we are seen here together !' 

what do you mean :' I cried, starting 
r.;> in alarm, r yoa are rny wife — my own wife! 
Did not Massa Minister, himself, say — What God 
hath joined together, let not man put asunder ? I 
cannot leave you. for you are ill." 

" ' O, you must. I shall die, soon, Laco — 

very boob — and then you will have no more 

trouble — your baby will never see the light. — It 

BBS added, in a hollow whisper — 'and I 



96 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

have kept it pure for your sake.' After a short 
pause she resumed — : 1 believe I must tell you 
now, Laco— I thought I never should, but I be- 
lieve I must. I shall never get another chance. 
Let us go to the woods. I dare not speak here.' 
She attempted to rise ; but she fell back quite ex- 
hausted. c Can you carry me ?' she whispered 
faintly. I took her in my arms and bore her to 
the wood. She was so light and thin it seemed 
like carrying a shadow. ' Clusy,' I cried, in ag- 
ony ; ' how much you must have suffered ! And 
why — why could I not have known it r' 

" ' I will tell you ;' she answered, ' but hush and 
be quick ; ' I piled together a heap of fresh leaves, 
and laid her gently down. ' Sit down by me 
now, Laco, and turn your eyes away ; for you 
must not look at me while I am telling.' 

" O, I wish some of those fine ladies, who think 
that the slave woman has no virtue — no delicacy 
— no sense even of decency — could have seen with 
what a sweet and shrinking modesty she told the 
revolting tale ; and when it was finished how she 
hid her head in my bosom, and wept so piteously! 



THE SLAVE-WIFE/ 'jt 

It was a common story, I have since found. Her 
master was enamored of her beauty. He had 
sought in vain to win her favor — at first by en- 
treaty, by presents, and flattery ; then by vio- 
lence, and the r.io.-t abusive treatment.' ' And why 
did you not tell me this before, Clusy r' I asked. 
>: ' O,' said she, looking up in my face, and at the 
same time clininnn; to me with a convulsive shud- 
der, ' he said he would kill you, if I ever told ; 
ami massa very Btrong — massa very cunning — 
massa very rich. What could poor slave do ? 1 
never should dare to tell now, only Lord Jesus 
Christ came to me last night, in my dreams, and 
I must. He say poor slave woman come to 
him presently. There is no selling — there is no 
buying where the Lord Jesus is; there is no 
lloggiiin to make poor woman wicked ; no more — ' 
• ' He surely has not dared to flog you, Clusy !' 
1 interrupted. 

"'Look here,' she answered, with a shudder, 
1 see if Clusy tell truth, or no. ' She drew 
aside from her back the one loose garment, and — 
O, my God ! that soft white skin was cut up and 

n 



93 LIBERTY CHI3I 

crossed and seamed in all directions ; and thei 
were deep ridges, and running sores. And all 
this she had borne without complaint, for my sake 
—for the love of virtue— for the inborn love of pu- 
rity— O, God ! it was hard to look upon, and think 
I had no power to help her !" 

He paused, unable for some time to speak far- 
ther. He shook from head to foot, and bitter 
groans burst from his heaving bosom. 

At length he grew calm, and continued. " W< 
resolved to apply for advice to the minister who 
had married us. He was a Presbyterian. Mr. 

and Mrs. C , were members of his church. 

Clusy and I, also, were baptized members of hi- 
flock. I bore my wife to the cottage, and hud h« I 
on the couch ; and having summoned an old wo- 
man to attend to her, and to inform her mistress 
♦hat she was ill, I went in pursuit of the minister. 
I had the good fortune to find him. 1 told him d • 
story, in words that seemed to bum me as I ut- 
tered them. And what do you think he said 5 
! ; . said there was no help — that I must sulmit 
Think of that, Christians ! a minister of the g 



Til. 

"" •• that another n 

... iv b< . ,1 i n s i n 

in call 

I 

' l ■ to < 

. link oft! 
:' it. all 

; l round, and 
■that the shad .,1 ma y 

and lovely, and d< lie 
• and virtu 

t only by ' 
S nature— although she * 

and hitter sorrow, 
■ Id by hi jter 

t have 
■■ r was an- 



100 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

the very man who had placed on her brow the seal 
of baptism — who had mocked her with the rite of 
marriage ! — Think of this, all ye virtuous — all 
ye pious women of the land ; and if your virtue, 
your piety, are not a mere sham — are not a damn- 
ing lie — give speedy help to the thousands of wo- 
men — all of them your sisters in the bonds of Hu- 
manity — many of them your sisters in the bonds of 
Christianity — who are daily prostituted on the 
altar of slavery ! while the black-hearted, lying 
Priests, lift up their bloody hands in consecration 
of the rite !! 

" Is it strange that I hated religion — that I hat- 
ed the very form of man? for I came to believe 
that a devil incarnate had taken possession of it! 

" I dreaded to communicate this intelligence to 
Clusy; but she was prepared. When I told her 
all, a superhuman strength seemed to possess her. 
The poor, ignorant, weak, and almost dying wo- 
man, was changed at once into the form of a ser- 
aph. Her eyes shone with terrible brightness, 
as she rose up and sat erect on her couch, her 
long, black silken hair streaming, with a contrast 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 101 

Host terrifi ■. over her pale features. Her eves 
were raised Coward heaven; and for some moment 

ith the spirits that dwell 

tii' i ! her eyes upon me, 

with B :id majesty I cannot describe, 

although . :isl)ed and terrified me; for L 

thought I h rit. 'Then he is a liar,' 

! — • and the Lord I 'hrist never sent 

him. H i mii Hell; and he will return to 

Hell agi in. But the inn .11 triumph! God 

his children!' A radiance not 

.-cad her features. She sank gently 

down u - if the hands of ang< 

had ' I the breath 

from their fanning pli . — they were 

watching her, wh meetly, a Ian 

Yet in her simple faith 
nely ; for God kept her. 
• 1 will not, and 1 need not, recount here all 
the dis{ ps in this affair. Clusy and I 

were happier than we hid been; since we had 

- from each other. In the deepest trouble 
we could kneel down and pray together; and we 

n 2 



102 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

were not left entirely without comfort, bitter and 
heavy as the yoke of bondage was. For God 
drew near unto our souls in the day of trouble; 
and our good mistress, to whom the whole aflfair 
became known, not only felt for, but shared our 
sorrows. 

I should have told you that on the Sabbath fol- 
lowing the Fourth of July alluded to, the Rev 
Mr. Lovegold broke the bread of life, and admin- 
istered the communion. The seducer, the adul- 
terer — the tenfold murderer was there, and par- 
took of the holy feast — not only un rebuked, but 
with the smiling approbation of his kind pastor. 
Our master, finding that I had become apprised of 
his conduct, threw off all disguise, and openly 
declared that after the birth of her child, Clusy 
should be his exclusively; threatening, if I made 
the least opposition, to sell me into Louisiana. 
To the birth of our child — that event so pleasing 
to most parents, we looked forward with the most 
agonizing fears. How we were sustained I know- 
not; but it really seemed as if an angel had en- 
tered into the heart of my wife; for what else 



THE BLAVE-WIF£. IQ-J 

• ild have supported her ? From day to day she 

■ punishments which I cannot repeat— which I 
daw ■ I think of— with a heroic gentleness 

' Buffi 1 all things, but to yield 
■ >'n. d with the spirit of a lamb; 
h'it Bhe i- Bisted with the heart of a lion. 

■ It was 1 ,n!y in the month of September, that 
Mr. ( ' . in atteroptii tort a promise from 

: hia \\: (asperated 

h< ' " fusal, that he I the o?< rseer to 

- on her back, which had never 

' n permitt( i - [ n vain pleaded that 

jht and agitation had made her very ill— that 

ild not even stand. She was hound to the 

and while cruel and vulgar men mocked 

• nii.ni; our is hum! J fad I 

• all the devils in Hell could not have 
"» defending h< r. But I had been pur- 

il a: Borne distance from home, and on 

■"I. I found the wretched mother scarcely 

and tiie dead child lying beside Inc. 

( to, 1>1' ( , d .'' were the first 

ed, that he has taken our babe 



104 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

before she knew what it is to be a slave-wo- 
man ! !' Think of this, ye wives, whose maternal 
anguish is alleviated by all that love, and friend- 
ship, and art, and science, can do ! think if ye 
would see your own daughters suffer the like ; and 
inasmuch as ye would not, strive to redeem these, 
also, from the bitter degradation — the cruel suffer- 
ing ! 

"Although extremely weak I found my wife 
perfectly sane. Her kind mistress had done every 
thing that could then be done, to promote her 
safety and comfort. When I arrived she was 
holding a pale hand of the sufferer between both 
of hers, and bathing it with her tears. She loved 
poor Clusy with a sister's love ; but she could do 
nothing to save her. 

" Three weeks from that night I escaped with 
my wife ; for her master had begun to renew his 
base proposals. I asked her if she dared to un- 
dertake the journey, in her then weak state. I 
told her of the blood-hounds, of the rifle shots, of 
the nameless tortures that would await us, if retak- 
en ; for Clusy had been kindly dealt with almost 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 105 

all her life and knew very little of slavery. ' I 
can die,' she replied ; ' I am ready, and willing ; 
and I must die soon ; but I cannot live here. That 
answer deti rmined me. I bore^her in my arms, 
(hat night, to the heart of a thick swamp ; and, on 
the cold wet earth we nestled together. There 
was I)'- terror in the numerous serpents and rep- 
tiles that crept around, and crawled over us. 
They were not bo cold, or so venomous, as the 
heart of the slave-holder. We seldom stirred 
abroad by day ; but at night we crept from our 
hiding place, found out the north star, and resum- 
ed our journey. When she was overcome with 
fatigue, which often happened, I carried her in 
my arms; and I really began to hope that the 
prospect of liberty would be the elixir of life, and 
completely restore her; but I found that there is 
no medicine to heal a broken heart. True, she 
aed, at tunes, much stronger — her eyes grew 
brighter and brighter everyday; and her fair 
check was tinged with a deep spot of red; but 
when we had reached the northern boundary of 
Maryland, -he cuuld go no farther, 



106 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

i( ' Lay me down,' she whispered. ' It is use- 
less to strive on. I have panted for freedom. 1 
have struggled hard for it ; but I can struggle no 
longer. Pile me a bed of leaves, and sit down by 
me ; for I feel that I am dying. There, let the 
north wind blow upon my cheek, for it is the 
breath of the free ; and let me look once more 
upon the bright star we have followed so long. It 
has been our only friend. Do you think it will 
shine in heaven, Laco ? Ah, now I hear angels 
singing songs of freedom ! I shall never sillier 
any more ; I have no pain — no sorrow. God will 
send a good spirit to lead you, my husband, into 
the land of liberty ! O, God, pity and forgive 
poor Massa ! Oh, Lord ! bless dear, dear Miss- 
is ! — Is there a cloud upon the moon ? — It is 
dark — dark. Ah, now a bright light is springing 
up within me ; and through it I see heaven ! Nev- 
er mourn for Clusy ! she is free ! free !!' She 
murmured a few indistinct words of praise and 
•prayer ; then her lips were still ; and I saw that 
without a struggle the free soul had departed. 

'■' In the deep loneliness of a widowed heart I 



THE SLAVE-WIFE. 1Q7 

sat by her till morning, and then by the help of a 
.small flat stone, but mostly with my hands alone, I 
hollowed out a grave in the sandy earth. There 
I buried her. There I sat all day, so absorbed in 
my sorrow that I knew nothing of the flight of 
until it was dark again. The melancholy 
owl came out and mourned with me. It seemed 
then as if I had companionship — as if an intelligent 
g had spoken to mo ; ami I. lor tho first time. 
gave utterance to my urii.-f aloud. At length a 
whippoorwill came and sat upon the new grave, 
and Bang h< r plaintive song. I thought the pure 
spirit spoke to me in the voice of that gentle bird : 
and then th.- angel of peace.' dropped his wings up- 
on my weary soul, and I 

ft her there, sleeping in the lonely woods 

of Maryland; hut I brought with me a shadow, 

which no earthly sun can chase away. Tell my 

he added, as he rose from the ground — 

• publish it abroad ; for if any woman can hear 

it without a wish — a determination to labor with 

all her might to abolish the slavery of woman, 

" ach her virtue — She is not true — she is 

not PURE 



108 LIBERTY CHIME*. 



i II E SLAVE-MOTHER 

l'.Y S. L. L. 

It comes at length, the twilight dim ; 

The weary mother sings her hymn 

Sweetly, hut plaintively. She sings, 

" I have no hope in earthly things, 

But only in the King of kings." 
"Twas a young mother sitting there 
The mingled hues her features hear 
Of that poor race to ruin driven, 
With those to whom the will of Heaven 
A paler tint of skin has given. 

She hushed upon her yearning hreast 
Her loved — her first-horn — into rest ; 
And parted hack his raven hair. 
And heavenly hope with earth's despair 
Was struggling in her tone and air. 
" My bahj dear, they sold away 
Thy father to the South to-day ; 



-MOTHER. 

1 ' 

I i 
W ..,,11. 

I 

I 

.11 — 
' ber little o 

I 

• I 
' I trife. 

•HUM r->w ni.irn at I • i iv 

1 

1 -i morn 

i Eden born. 
I r the hut the master drt 

Tli- rtb, the Heavenj blue 

Were* ■ the whole thej knew 

l 



110 LIBERTY CHIMES, 

He entered there ; on the low ground 

The mother and her habe he found ; 

He stooped to rouse with sudden shake — 

Pause, ruffian, pause! for Heaven's dear sake. 

The dead, the dead wouldst thou awake ? 

Oh ! what divine, triumphant air 

Those young and gentle features wear! 

And the meek babe, no ruffian bold 

Shall e'er unclasp the tender hold 

Of those soft arms that thee enfold 

A mortal plague that season reigned, 
And many a bondman, long enchained, 
Found freedom iu their welcome graves; — 
Lucy and her dear infant craves 
A place among these happy sla\ es 

Far off on that clear morning <k\ . 
'Twas told that music floated In. 
And legends of that region wild 
Said that sweet sons of angels mild. 
Was Lucy and her blessed child. 
Newport, R. I. 



\ LETTER. ! 1 1 



\ LE TTE R. 

E. < rREENWICH, JUNE 30, 18 [5 

1 >r. kR Friends : 

\- I * 1 1 « i ii your kind request 

t<> furnish an >r your Book, I have endcav- 

! to ti\ oo some su that might be interest- 

to your readers ; and my excuse is, that I feel 

h an all-absorbing interest for the re-union oi 
the ] Is of the Slave, that I have no place in 

inv mind hut for that on v. idea 

When in ' i 1836, I had the high h 

side in the convention that formed the R. 1 

te \ S, Society, and there witnessing the 
unanimity, zeal, and kindness and Brotherly Love 
there manifested, giving promise of certain suc- 
. my heart rejoiced exceedingly. 

B it where n >w are those Brethren whose hearts 
mingled like drops of water uniting in one ? why 



112 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

is the good work stayed, and why are those brave 
hearts chilled ? Why do those Giant arms hang 
listlessly down and why are those heavenly tem- 
pered weapons blunted or turned upon their 
Friends ? Who is the Enemy that has done all 
this ? Is he not of ourselves ? And why have 
those loud peans ceased, with which the Libera- 
erator and Emancipator, once greeted the Tap- 
pans, Garrison, Birney, Stanton, Rogers, Phelps, 
Goodell, Stewart, Smith and others? Has the pure 
gold become dim ? Or are those Editors of too 
pure eyes to look upon human infirmity with the 
least degree of allowance ? I do most sincerely 
wish that all Friends of the Slave would earnestly 
inquire, why it is, that most of our Anniversaries 
exhibit the secession, or an open, violent, virulent, 
attack on some prominent, active and influential 
abolitionist ; all his faults observed set in a note 
book, conned and learned to be cast into his teeth. 
And then let those who are not wholly inflated 
with the idea of their own infallibility, resolve 
not to cast the first stone until they are without 
sin and resolve to refrain from all harsh and pro- 



A LETTER. 1 ]:} 

yoking epithets, and cheerfully leave others to 
choose such means as they think will be most ef- 
fective to accomplish the object we all so much 
desire. 

\ >urs for the Slave 

And Freedom of Speech, 
John Browx 



i2 



1 14 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



LINES WRITTEN IN NOVEM- 
BER. 

EY SARAH H. WHITMAN. 

" All seasons shall be sweet to thee, 
Whether the summer clothe the general earth 
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing 
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the hare branch 
Of mossy apple tree." — Coleridcjk. 

Farewell the forest-shade — the twilight grove, 

The turfy path with fern and flowers inwove, 

Where through long summer days I wandered far 

'Till warned of evening by her "folding-star." — 

No more I linger by the fountain's play 

Where arching boughs shut out the sultry ray, 

Making at noon-tide hours a dewy gloom ; 

O'er the moist marge where weeds and wild flowers bloom ; 

"Till from the western sun a glancing flood 

Of arrowy radiance filled the twilight wood, 

Glinting athwart each leafy verdant fold, 

And flecking all the turf with drops of gold. 



LINES. 1 15 

g the wild-bird on the waving hough 
Where < "i<l November wind-; arc wailing now ; — 
The chirp of insects <>n the Bnnnj lea 5 
And the wild music of the wandering bee 
\ • Bilent all — closed La their vesper lay, 
Borne l>> 1 1 1 * - breeze of Autojnn far away — 
-till the withered heath I love to ro\<\ 
The bare brown meadow and the leafless grove — 
Still love !<• tread the bleak bill's rocky Bide, 
Where nodding asters wave in purple pride, 
( >r from its summit listen to the flow 
< )f the dark v iming !'n below. 

Still through tin 1 • opse I -my 

Where sere and rustling leaves obstruct the way, 
To find tti pale blossom of the year, 

That Btrangel} blooms when all is dark and drear — 

The wild witch hazel, fraught with mystic power 
To ban, 01 bl< ■ rules the hour. — 

Then, homeward wending 'neath the dusky vale 
\\ here winding rills their evening damp-: exhale, — 
Pause l>\ the dark pool in whose sleeping wave 
Pale Dian loves her golden locks to lave, 

In the hushed fountain's heait, serene and cold, 

Glassing bei glorious image — as of old 
When first the stole upon Endymion's rest, 

And Ins young dreams with heavenly beauty blessed. 



116 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

And thou, " stern ruler of the inverted year," 
Cold, cheerless winter, hath thy wild career 
No sweet peculiar pleasures for the heart, 
That can ideal worth to rudest forms impart? 

When, through thy long dark nights, cold sleet and rain 
Patter and plash against the frosty pane, 
Warm curtained from the storm, I love to lie 
Wakeful, and listening to the lullahye 
Of fitful winds, that, as they rise and fall, 
Send hollow murmurs through the echoing hall. 

Oft by the blazing hearth at eventide, 

I love to mark the changing shadows glide 

In flickering motion o'er the umbered wall, 

Till slumber's honey-dew my senses thrall. 

Then, while in dreamy consciousness, I lie 

'Twixt sleep and waking, fairy fantasie 

Culls from the golden past a treasured store, 

And weaves a dream so sweet, hope could not ask for more. 

In the cold splendor of a frosty night, 

When blazing stars burn with intenser light 

Through the blue vault of heaven — when cold and clear 

The air through which yon tall cliffs rise severe; 

Or when the shrouded earth in solemn trance 



LINES. 117 

wan moon's melancholy glance, 
f love to mark eai 
\ i ! in p ile b idnight si 

. constant as the night, 
. till tli -ir <1 irk urn-, from tli ■ fount of light. 

i B 

and wi Dorthern sky, — 

Th3 storied ( tion, like ;i p 

Fraught with the won 

^ h ir > m ,u,l hydras rise, 

long the Bkies." 

the hoar 
b ah e\ er mystic power 
i e the onperverted hi 

id ii'-.mt v - to impart 

.:.• and d 
Tii it ,u.l th ■ d i\ :u\v ird to keep. 

Pro II. I. 



1 18 LIBERTY CHIMES. 



From ;: Tlie Ivosmian," an unpublished work. 

AHMED'S LETTERS. 

NO. 48. 

Brother of my soul, 

Thou well remembcrest that from time to time 
1 have spoken to thee on the subject of Texas, 
and its annexation to these United States — which 
measure is now said to be inavertible; and only 
waits the ratification of the next Congress. The 
stupidity — the stolid indifference of these people 
in regard to the subject is really astonishing! One 
would think it should burn itself into every heart, 
until the whole man became ignited, as with in- 
consumable fire. But what do I see? A people 
professedly Republican, with the most sonorous 
grandiloquence about freedom on their lips, and 
the most swelling flourishes of patriotism in all 



AHMED S LETTERS. 119 

their writings — the one half, or the small majority, 
urging and cany ing forward a measure, which is 
intended to fasten the curse of slavery — slavery, 
too, of the most revolting character — upon the land, 
forever; and the other half, or the large minority, 
without sufficient force to resist the current — which 
they Beem to take for granted it is impossible to 
arrest! And this has hcen the condition of things 

o 

for months! Impossible! Nought should be con- 
sider* d impossible, while aught remains to be 

done! Impossible! — the word should be made ob- 
solete at such a crisis; and every man should 
plant himself upon the rights of man, and do bat- 
therefor, with a firm resolve to conquer, or die 
in the struggle ! 1- there do Leonidas to throw 
himself into the gap J Are there no brave three 
hundred men to follow, and sustain him: 

Thou wilt remember, my friend, that, after 
Mexico hail achieved her independence, her first 
great measure was to manumit her slaves, provid- 
iiu thai slavery should cease, and forever, through- 
out her dominions. This noble consistent 
\\ inch so readily nave to others what she demand- 



120 LIBERTY CHIMES, 

ed for herself, should have secured to her the ad- 
miration of the living world, as it surely will the ap- 
plause of posterity. But this only inflamed the 
avarice of the American slave-holders, many of 
whom had settled in Texas ; and a conspiracy 
was immediately set on foot to rend the colony 
from the parent country. To this end seditions 
were fomented by a band of swindlers and loafers, 
who had emigrated from the United States, and 
who were sustained and encouraged by the slave- 
power of the country. These continued to import 
and retain slaves, contrary to the express laws of 
the Republic ; and, by their wild and lawless 
character, they overawed the old residents, who 
were living prosperous and happy, under the gen- 
tle sway of Mexico. Although the Texan decla- 
ration of independence falsely asserts to the con- 
trary, all religions were tolerated by an act of the 
legislature, the right of trial by jury, in all cases 
whatsoever, was secured by law ; schools were 
established ; their lands were given to the peo- 
ple, and they were exempt from taxation for ten 
years ; the gentlest, the most generous policy 



ahmed's letters. 1 £2 1 

ever extended to anybody of emigrants, was met 
with the basest ingratitude. In this way the re- 
volt commenced ; and though this country was. 
at that time, and has remained since, under bonds 
of peace and mutual alliance with Mexico ; yet. 
in violation of the law of nations — in violation of 
all good faith — men, money, and arms, were pub- 
and transported into Texas, to aid 
the r rmittcd to pass th 

borders without . or hindrance, under the 

k and silly pretence that they could not be re- 
strained. The of Texas was represented 
as tl of liberty ; and strong appeals to 
patri ffl with the foulest prejudice 
and cupiditj made in her behalf, and pub- 

1 openly in the public Journals. The Pi 
dent was known to hold a correspondence with 
the chief of the conspirators, one of whom, Swart- 
wout, was hi- very ■particular friend. An army 
rais< d for the special purpose of convoying a 
large body of recruits in! i Mexico ; and they had 
actually received marching orders — but the affair 
tting abroad, they were retained 

j 



122 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

An agency was established in New Orlea 
with full powers to raise and equip a navy, to for- 
ward supplies to the army, and to accept, and en- 
courage, the services of volunteers. At this time 
Mexico had a fleet which commanded the gulf ; 
but, within three months, four heavily armed 
schooners were equipped, in full view of the Cus- 
tom House of New Orleans ; and, in less than 
four months, every Mexican cruiser was either 
destroyed, or driven into port : and this loss of the 
command of the sea, was the main cause of the 
defeat of Santa Anna — with which the Texans had 
nothing to do. At this period, transports filled 
with armed volunteers, were continually leaving 
New Orleans. Munitions of war were purchased 
and shipped in the most open manner ; and, at 
one time, three transports and an armed steam- 
boat, with five hundred volunteers under the com- 
mand of Gen. Green, fitted out, and sailed from 
the Levee, which is directly in front of the Cus- 
tom House, with the sound of drums, and the 
Texan colors flying. Simultaneously with these 
movements, another large army belonging to tlie 



ahmed's letters. 12.3 

United States was despatched into Mexico, osten- 
sibly with the very friendly intention of protecting 
w.i.y From the Indians on our frontier; but. 
lly, to overawe the Mexican, and strengthen 
the Tes id Sol li< ra ; and this poli f fully 

Mined, always permitting American volunteers 
to pass into 1 the hundred; while no 

:i. or ; Indian, was allowed to ap- 

xan army ; and this was their neu- 
lity ! — Surely the pretext that these facts w< 
known I '. exceeds in audacity 

yet no proclamati n 

I ; and ie> overt, or official act of the 

Execul intenanced, or, in any way, dis- 

coura :ed them. Tn ident not only vio- 

i. v i r.i) 1 ii . I . . ; [ONS, BUT ni> vtii 01' 

; and, after all this, in his following Mes- 

the Chi ' one word of 

; but represent d all the relations 

with Mexj eight and sunny char- 

ition of Arbuth- 
t, and A ister, President Jackson says; — 



124 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

''It is an established principle of the law of nations, 
that any individual of any nation, making war 
against the citizens of another nation, they being 
at peace, forfeits his allegiance, and becomes an 
outlaw, and a pirate." According to this princi- 
ple then, the whole array of " Emigrants," and 
Volunteers, with the Government at their, 
head, should have been hanged, as outlaws and 
Pirates ! Tell it not in Algiers, O, my brother ! 
Publish it not on the hills of Constantine ! how 
this great Nation has fallen ! — how Slavery walk- 
cth abroad, or sitteth in high places, clothed in 
purple, while Freedom is robed in sackcloth, and 
bowed down to the dust, in sorrow and lamenta- 
tion ! The proud mock her as they go by ; and 
the great ones of the land rejoice in her tears ! 

To this alliance with Texas the whole spirit, and 
most of the men of the North, were entirely oppo- 
sed — until, in the electioneering campaign of 1 
it was made the test question of a party, and the ba- 
sis of political action. In the name of Democracy, 
then, which declares that "all men are created fire 
and equal, and are by nature endowed with certain 



ahmed's letters. 1£5 

inalienable rights, among which arc life, lib< 
and the pursuit of happiness," a system is to be sus- 
tained and perpetuated, which cuts oi\\ at a blow, 
everv om a — which devours and - 

o 
pful rapidity — which annihi 

no room for happim ss, 

in the grave — which divests man of his God-like 

attrib i ives him to the Bh iml ; 9, and makes 

him a brute — a thing— which tramples under foot 

ill social and domestic relation — which invades 

the sanctuary of female virtue, and pronou 

Tli- ml of Annexation has been 

I i nd by addressing two of the strong- 
1 : :'' - Ifish princi >1< loi r. 01 1 

and the love or power. In addition to the im- 
31 \\ 'i the wind,- country was 

flooded with Tex in '• Scrip," or fraudulent land- 
titles, which would he worth nothing if the M 
can authority was re-established, hut which would 
increase in value, if Texas could he allied to this 
country. So the scrip-holders, like the slave- 
hold< dent Annexationists; and here 

ri 



126 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

was the root of their patriotism! Remember that 
all right of alliance is predicated on the assump- 
tion that Texas achieved her independence. This 
she never did. Her battles were fought, and her 
victories won, by American volunteers! Even at 
the battle of San Jacinto, there were not twenty 
native Texans on the field. The true people of 
Texas were satisfied with the government of Mex- 
ico, and indisposed to change; and these were so 
far in a majority in 1843, as to decline a formal 
proposition of alliance made by this government; 
and it was only acceded to, upon a direct 
THREAT OF WAR! Yes, my brother, this 
self-styled noble and magnanimous government — 
has crowned her meanness by threatening the fee- 
ble and infant republic of Texas with war! What 
an array of facts is here! The Americans inva- 
ding the territory of Mexico, with whom they were 
at peace, and taking possession of the country, 
without the consent, and against the wishes, of a 
majority even of the people of Texas ! They have 
overthrown the laws and usurped the dominion of 
a friendly power — and now a majority of the peo- 



ahmed's letters. 127 

pie at home sustain them in the wrong! What a 
record for history! Is there no true blood in 
your veins, that ye blush not, O ye degenerate 
is of noble fathers! Are these people so lifted 
up — so swelled out with a mighty pride, that they 
really have no regard to the opinion of the world — 
no regard even to the laws which govern the 
world? Are they so blinded by self-conceit that 
the} cannot perceive the ridiculous, the despica- 
ble light in which they appear? Allah is good; 
tmi I bless thee, O mi Fa i her, that the star of 
my nativity rose not in the United State-, but in 
tli<- States of Barbary. 

Thou wilt remember the several reasons which 
have been urged by its friends, in favor of the 
measure, t.> which I have give n due weight in for- 
mer letters. I have no l< il this time to ^ive 
them further attention. I will, however, just re- 
capitulate the heads, for the better present under- 
standing of the subject: — They are — the danger of 
Bmuggl i - in tie- south-east — of the occupation of 
the country by Kng!and — of the escape of South- 
ern slaves into Mexico — and the advantages to 



128 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

their trade and commerce. The fallacy of all 
these I have before shown thee. But even if they 
were valid, are they not founded in sheer policy? 
and how can they stand against a question of ab- 
solute right? As well might we possess ourselves 
of our neighbor's purse, because it is convenient, 
or agreeable to do so — because we may make our- 
selves^ richer or stronger by so doing. Wrong, 
by being extended from the individual to the mass 
— to the nation— does not lose its character. It is 
still wrong; and though it multiply itself intp a 
thousand hydras, yet every single head will be 
held accountable; and, in proportion to its power 
of persuading others, will be found guilty. Let 
no man seek to hide himself under his neighbor's 
fault, nor under the shadow of the general wick- 
edness—though it spread itself forth as the banyan 
tree— though it stretch itself upward so as to 
darken heaven — yet the worm that is nourished 
at its own root shall consume its vitality. It shall 
wither away, and the lightning of God shall con- 
sume it. All wrong is temporary. It existeth but 
for a season. Only Truth and Right are eternal. 



ETTERS. 129 

1 should here allude to the dissimulation and 

of the Annexationists, one party of 

!y recommend it as a pro-slavery 

m ther as an anti-slavery measure, 

— both being between th to use 

.i'iv means, and tell any Btory, hy which the Norih 

may he cajoled, and the grand ol ted. 

■. Murphy, Chargee of thi Kri at Tex- 

\plicitly tin thi- A, ; a let- 

pshur, o M -he 

:i'l i.iir (ill I iV^B-; 

the North. Talk about civil, political, and relig- 
ions liberty; that will be (he safest issue to gobe* 
' world with!" What can be expected of 
a people who have Buch leaders? and what hope 
can there be in a nation where polk i is Buperioi 
rauTH, and parti is paramount to right? But 
there is one recommendation of the measure which 
1 must notice here, since it shows quite clearly 
how rich tiny are in resources, how strong in rca- 
Mr. Walker, the slave-holding anti-slavery 
a!. from Mississippi, Btrongly argues thene- 

ssity of changing boundari s, hecause the 



130 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

present carves the valley into " a shape actually 
hideous /" It is too angular. It does not exem- 
plify Hogarth's line of grace and beauty, and 
.herefore must be changed. A very excellent rea- 
son for invading and spoiling one's neighbor! 

In weighing the advantages of Annexation, I 
wish thee to bear in mind that the character of the 
climate on the Gulf of Mexico is such, that a 
white population, sufficient for its defence, can 
never be maintained there. The slave population, 
with all its elements of discord, must always pre- 
ponderate. To excite such a people to revolt, 
would probably be the first policy of an invading 
enemy; and to be prepared against this, would re- 
quire a stationary force greater than would be necessa*- 
ry for the defence of the wliole Atlantic coast. What 
will be gained, then, by the possession of all the 
dangerous coast of Texas, which is wholly unfit, 
either for the purposes of commerce or defence? 

The annexation of Texas became a party meas- 
ure of the Democrats ; and but few distinguished 
men among them dared to breast the current of pop- 
ular action. The spirit in which such opposition 



ETTfcHS \3i 

uld be met, was shewn by Mr. Walker, when he 
declared, that " the wrath of this indignant na- 
tion, shall roll like lava, in fiery torrents, over the 
political grayes, of tlio.se who oppose the admission 
of Texas." Deeply is it to be regretted that a 
;hanan, a Woodbury, and a ft, should 

not have chosen " polith ves" rather than 

have Lent the influence of th< - to 

. that even a W< v. ithout 

an) :v of party bias, should voluntarily have 

il an indii 1 1 ! The orator of 

Plymouth Rock, and of Bunker Hill, bowing down 
ithern Moloch ! Could the pilgrims 
have ; the Maj il >wer would have 

turned back, t.» , ber pathwi r those 

wintry and could the dying heroes of Bunk- 

i have known it. their spirits, ere they parted for- 
ever, would have felt a pang keener than death 
in the conviction that all those rivers of blood 
\sirr poured out in vain ! 

1 have Been hut one Democratic paper which 
came out against Annexation ; and that is The 
Independent Democrat, edited by Robert C. Wet- 



J 32 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

more. Cherish the name, my friend, for we must 
expect great things of a man who could, in this 
country, be his own judge of right — and resist 
the sway of his party. We see in this fact a hero- 
ism sufficient for all things. I am happy to add 
two other names to the above — those of Richard 
D. Davis, and John P. Hale, the only democratic 
members of Congress who went against Annexa- 
tion, at the final vote, in 1845 ! These names are 
embalmed forever by their true love of liberty. 

I will now give thee some good sound Northern 
reasons why Texas should not be annexed, begin- 
ning with the lowest, or those of a purely econom- 
ical character. First, then, the United States 
must liquidate, or assume, the vast national debt 
of Texas— a debt of $10,000,000. In addition 
to this, she must become responsible for the pay- 
ment of the Mexican land claims. Thou wilt re- 
member that previous to the revolution, Mexico 
had nearly covered the entire soil of Texas with 
grants. These grants she will be obliged to make 
good, although the soil has been covered, again 
and again, by the forged scrip, which has been 



ahmed's letters. 133 

hawked through this country. To a nation nearly 
or quite bankrupt this is surely no trifle ; espe- 
cially when we take into the account all the incal- 
culable expenses of war, and standing armies for 
the protection of a wide and weak frontier. This 
vast amount must be liquidated by taxes drawn 
mainly from the northern laborer, who is to gain 
nothing by the accession . but, on the contrary, is 
actually in danger oflosing his own liberty, and of 

being reduct d to the condition of a & if. or bond- 
man. Arc the free laborers of the North prepared 
tor this : Do they know that the necessity of 
such a relation as that of master and slave, has 
been boldly advocated by Calhoun, by M'Duffie, 
and bj Lamar, the late Governor of Texas 
These men Burely do not want the will to make 
the white labon rs Blares ; and when they have 
made forty-three new slav< las large as that of 

Massachusetts, who will become guarantie for their 
want of power ? Then let Northern men remem- 
ber that in their blind, or guilty acquiescence in a 
base party measure, they may have sealed their 
n doom ! Shame on the leaders, who have so 

K 



134 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

abused their generous confidence — who have so 
blinded, misled, and corrupted them ! 

Again, it would increase the elements of internal 
disorder and jealousy, and sow the seeds of final 
disunion. The opposing interests, habits, and 
principles of the North and South, cannot be long 
reconciled to each other, or stand in juxtaposition 
without conflict. "When the electioneering ex- 
citement shall have produced its reaction, the 
dupes of political sophistry will begin to be indig- 
nant at the cheat ; and they will come out against 
it — unless the North is' wholly subdued, and 
made really an appendage and organ of the 
South — which cannot be done in one day ; for the 
North is, in the main, true and staunch. The 
only difficulty is, that it is kept in such strong ar- 
mor of dollars and cents, there is no such thing as 
getting into it. But, in the event alluded to, pub- 
lic virtue would be undermined, free labor would 
be degraded, the standard of national morality 
would be immensely lowered, corruption would 
lead to weakness — and weakness would soon find 
the downward steps to final ruin. This is no idle 



ahmed's letters. j 3 j 

speculation. There is nothing can long sustain a 
people, how* vi r rich, or powerful, or enlightened 

y maybe, if the principle of honor, of integrity, 
of high heroic virtue be wholly wanting. All his- 
tory — all ei :e — shows that when the public 
heart h t, the nation has begun to 
decay. I belli \ e not that nations, like individual- . 
must have their limited period of growth, dec 
and dissolution. If 1 1 ine 

ill 1 - lould see in this nation fearful signs 
approaching fate ; but BUch an i< . to 

the great law which is interwoven in the destiny 
man. and which binds himtoth* itty of infi- 

nite pi I me fearful mistakes have 

been made ; an 1 Nations have been immolat i i 

'their accumulated .-ins ; but the 
present, and the i learn the lessons of 

i past. Le1 the nation cherish Purity and Jus- 
tice, and Truth, and it shall live ; for these are 
eternal. 

\ it will be made the avenue to future con- 

quest ami ion. A Nation that has forfeit- 

ad her good faith can have no character to lose, and 



136 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

piracy on the high seas, may consummate her com s< 
of domestic, social and international piracy. The 
subjugation of Mexico, is, even now, openly talk- 
ed of ; and the rich temples, and golden images 
of that country, are pointed out by the leaders as 
stimulants to the cupidity of lawless adventurers. 

Is this Republic, then, to be not only a nation 
of slave-breeders, but must it also become a nur- 
sery of robbers and pirates? — for what better is he 
than a robber and a pirate, who goes forth to spoil 
his neighbor, with no higher motive than the love 
of gain? Is the public virtue to be increased in 
this way, or the great heart of the nation to be 
strengthened? Are the scenes of feudal times to 
he brought up anew, and re-enacted in the heart 
of this republic, and in the middle of the nine- 
teenth century? 

Ajrain; it will involve the country in war; and 
war has, even now, been declared by Mexico. 
Sneer not, proud American, but rather remember 
the Seminole war, where, in spite of your blood- 
hounds, millions of money, and thousands of hu- 
man lives, were wasted, to subjugate a handful oi 



ahmed's letters. 1-37 

Indians-— who have never been subdued, even yet! 
But will the powers of Europe look on quietly, a 
seethe dismemberment of a Republic? for not 
onl dismeml but two other b! 

which Am< rican rapacity is grasping. But a •■ 
with Mexico will l)c no contemptible affair; 
Bhe will he in the right, her enemies in the wroi 
How will these Republicans do battle in behalf of 
Slavery J They Bh »uld i cold an 

as the Sphynx, lest the bio •<! which bas flowed in 
direct currents from the Pilgrim fountains, Bhould 
lbrcc itself upward, and mantle their cheeks with 
the burning blush of shame; until, looking upon 
ich other, their kn< ild Bmil I her ::i 

mortal agony, at the speaking evidence of then 

ilt. Then shall come forth the Champions 
Right, with their smooth pebbles from the bro 
and the boasting Goliahs shall be laid low; 
not on their side. 
The true p >licy of this country is peace. In 
peace her n • arc to b< ' >ped, 

character el rated, the basis of her instituti 
iblished, and her duties to mankind fulfilled. 
n2 



138 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

Could she but perceive the true end of her be- 
ing, she would read therein a mission to the Ages, 
and the Nations — she would see herself destined to 
be the great exponent of human liberty, shewing 
the absolute value of man, as man — demonstrat- 
ing that the hand-laborer and the king, are intrin- 
sically equal — both standing on the same great lev- 
el platform of Humanity. This is her peculiar 
mission ; and for this the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence is her diploma. But if she is false to her 
trust — if she becomes corrupt, and wantonly press- 
es downward to the gulf of irretrievable ruin, how 
will the less-favored Nations taunt her with bitter 
mockery ; " Art thou also become weak as we ? 
art thou become like unto us ! How art thou fal- 
len from heaven, Oh Lucifer, star of the morning !" 

Again ; it would give a fatal preponderance to 
the slave-power, which has long governed this 
country. 

Let it be remembered that the South, though far 
in the minority, has held the reins of the govern- 
ment, and swayed the destiny of the nation almost 
the entire period of fifty years. One word will 



ahxed's letters. 139 

lain to thee how this is effected. By a law of 
the Nation, Slave property is represented in the na- 
tional councils — that is, five slaves rank equal to 
three free men of the North — so that a planter 
bavins one hundred slaves, would be entitled to 

much weight in the Senate as GO free men of 
the north. Now when \) aew slave states as large 
as that of Massachusetts shall have been erected, 
-hall 1m- a representation of live or bis 
millions of SI LVes, there will be no longer need of 
all the bullying, which lias disgraced the Capitol 
)">i rean past — there will no longer be an enemy 
to contend with ; for the North must either sink 
down into rading vassalage, or seek 

for Freedom in disunion. 

Again ; it will indefinitely enlarge the boun- 
daries of slavery, ami tend to make the institution 

perpetual. This has, indeed, been the great 
PRINCIPLE which has lain at the base of all south- 
ern action on the subject —the grand lever which 
has in >ved all southern influence. This policy 
bas b< en openly avowed by marly all the great 
Lead 5rs of the enterprise ; and yet, with the fact 



140 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

of their assertions staring them full in the face. 
Northern men affect to disbelieve. Do they think 
these men are fools, that they should struggle, 
and bully, and wrangle for years, with a concen- 
tration of zeal which has swallowed up all other 
interests, unless they well knew why ? General 
Lamar, late President of Texas, has given us 
some light on this subject, which we should do 
well to profit by. He says that, in cases of non- 
annexation, from the proximity of Mexico, the in- 
security of negro property would be infinitely in- 
creased ; and, consequently, the tide of emigra- 
tion from the southern states would be arrested ; 
and, at the same time, the influx of emigrants 
from Europe, which has been conlinuous and great, 
would vastly increase — and in proportion the anti- 
slavery spirit would extend itself — until it should 
become paramount, and then an emancipation act 
might safely and peaceably be established through 
the ballot box This he thinks more than probable, 
and he further sa s that if Texas should abolish 
slavery, the in iti in could not be sustained in 
the old and u • states of the South for fifty 



ahmed's letters. 14! 

years ! Are Antislavery men deaf to these asser- 
tions, made by one who knew all the facts in the 
case — who was acquainted, not only with the lo- 
calities, but the spirit of the people^? The Gen- 
eral proceeds to urge Annexation, because it 
mid give stability to their domestic institutions, 
anil thereby Bave them forever, from the unpar- 
alleled calamities <■!" abolition." I know that it is 
said by -. with Messrs. Jay and 

Walker at their head, that there will not be a sin- 
gle -lave tin.' more, i r all this accession of slave 
territory! but there will, <>n the contrary, be a 
gradual tendency towards manumission. Are 
persons aware of the absurdity they are 
rushing into ': — When did the increased demand 
tend t" less* n tie- supply ' Do they not 
know that, bo tar from this, in all commercial rela- 
tions, the demand always regulates the supply r 
\ regular trade has long been kept up with Cuba, 
, which had been imported from Africa; 
and wlwn this great market is fairly open, and 
the strength of the South is superadded to their 
own, will this trade diminish ; will there not, on 
fearful increase ; 



M2 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

And shall not this country be mainly accounta- 
ble tor all these evils ? — for the desolating wars of 
conquest which scourge Africa — for the wasting 
flesh and whitening bones which mark the path of 
the coffle over the desert, and which we have seen 
together, and lamented over, O, my friend, with- 
out ever dreaming that the ultimate destination of 
the wretched survivors, was this promised land of 
Liberty ! — will she not be accountable for all the 
increasing horrors of the middle passage, and for 
the robbery of uncounted souls of all right in 
themselves, or in their own bodies ? The destiny 
of millions is now committed to her hands. If she 
is false, she plunges the suicidal knife into her own 
heart ! 

Can it be too late to act even now ? Can it ever 
be too late, while aught remains to do ? Were 
this my country I would go abroad into the streets 
and highways, through wood, prairie, and wilder- 
ness, and cry aloud, without ceasing. I would 
call upon every man who loves liberty — upon every 
man who loves right — to come out and help me! — 
Are there not twelve righteous men to save this na- 



AHMED 'fi LETTERS. 143 

tioo r Nay, if there be but one Lot, in God's 
name, let him come out. 

I must close this hastily, begging forgiveness for 

its great length : yet knowing that no question 

ling Human Rights, can be indifferent to 

thee — and so I throw it and myself into the arms 

of thy love. 

Sakvi-alik. Thine ever, 

Ahmed El Korah, 



114 LIBERTY CHIMES 



THE GOLDEN BALL, 

A T A I. E OF FAERIE. 

Written in the Album of a young friend : 

BY SARAH H. WHITMAN 

Chauntcd to the cradle slumbers 

Of thy childhood, Eleanore, 
Often hast thou heard the nunihers 

Of the ancient faerie-lore — 

Listened to the mythic stories 

Taught when fancy's charm-ed sway- 
Filled with visionary glories 
All thy childhood's golden day 

In the dull and drear December, 
Sitting by the hearth-light's gleam 



* I have sought in vain, dear Eleanore, for this story, among 
the most approved collections of authentic fairy legends. I feai 
it will he considered apocryphal by the " New Generation," since 
I must confess it rests on no better authority than the traditionary 
lore of the Cabeiri, or the Talmudic legends of the Kabbala. Yel 
lean vouch for its authenticity, having heard it in my childhood, 
from an aged relative, to whose maternal ancestors it was related 
by a lineal descendant of Juliet's Norse, well known to have been 
connected by marriage with a half sister of Mother Bunch. You 
will not, therefore, accuse me of staining your fair pages with un- 
advised 01 trivial fables; but treasure the mythic verse il 
young heart, and ponder its hidden wisdom. 



LLL 

! 

I 

T ' h 

! ily, 

Through the I ■! and w 

Till I 

j — 

How to 
. with do! 



J46 LIBERTY CHIMES. 

Shrined within its charm-ed hollow, 

Many a mystic virtue lay; 
Safely might her footsteps follow 

Wheresoe'er it led the way. 

Hast not heard, with heart of wonder, 
How this magic glote of gold, 

Onward through the rushing thunder 
Of the stormy torrent rolled? 

On where boundless forests burning, 
Scorched the air and scathed the sight. 

From earth's ghastly features turning 
Back the dunnest pall of night. 

Still, on golden axis turning, 
Onward, onward, still it sped — 

Si ill the maid, her terrors spuming, 
Fleetly following as it fled. 

While the raging waters bore hei 

Safely o'er their hollow way; 
And the flame-lights, flashing o'er her, 
led like stars at break of day. 

Paled before her virgin honor — 
Paled before her love and truth — 

Savage natures, gazing on her, 
Turned to pity and to ruth. 

So she passed the burning forest, 
P 3sed the grinding* iron gate, 



ite crushed those who lingered and hesitated; while 
the courageous passed safely through. 



THE GOLDEN EALT 

I when dan^.T threatened sorest, 
Calmly trod the path of fate. 

Till the night that - 

I . v more beautiful than day. 
\ I bei feet bo we ury, 

Glid< '1 gently on theii way — 

meadows 

— 

Till Ming through. 

•at the lily bells. 

;■ ill itfl 1 



tin- air with music thrills. 

pouring 

1 



LIBERTY CHIMES. 

" Thou hast conquered, little stranger, 

All thy bitter trials past; 
Days of toil, and nights of danger, 

Thou hast won the goal at last. 

Lift me from the running water, 
Lay me on the grass to d. 
For I am a fairy's daughter, 
Doomed within the wave to 

" 'Till a mortal maid should take me 

From the liquid element — 
Henceforth will I ne'er forsake tl 

And my name is — True Content. 

Thus, though step-dame Nature c 
And oppress with cruel thrall. 
Unto true content shall guide thee, 
Faith's unerring Golden Bai i 



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